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MARIANNA HEIKINHEIMO
ARCHITECTURE AND
TECHNOLOGY:
PAIMIO SANATORIUM
A R C H I T E C T U R E A N D T E C H N O LO GY:
Alvar Aalto’s
Paimio Sanatorium
TIIVISTELMÄ
A
rkkitehti, kuvataiteen maisteri Marianna Heikinheimon arkkitehtuurin histo-
rian alaan kuuluva väitöskirja Architecture and Technology: Alvar Aalto’s Paimio
Sanatorium tarkastelee arkkitehtuurin ja teknologian suhdetta suomalaisen
mestariarkkitehdin Alvar Aallon suunnittelemassa Paimion parantolassa (1928–1933).
Teosta pidetään Aallon uran käännekohtana ja yhtenä maailmansotien välisen moder-
nismin kansainvälisesti keskeisimpänä teoksena. Eurooppalainen arkkitehtuuri koki
tuolloin valtavan ideologisen muutoksen pyrkiessään vastaamaan yhä nopeammin teollis-
tuvan ja kaupungistuvan yhteiskunnan haasteisiin. Aalto tuli kosketuksiin avantgardisti-
arkkitehtienkanssa Congrès internationaux d’architecture moderne -järjestön piirissä
vuodesta 1929 alkaen. Hän pyrki Paimion parantolassa, siihenastisen uransa haastavim-
massa työssä, soveltamaan uutta näkemystään arkkitehtuurista.
Työn teoreettisena näkökulmana on ranskalaisen sosiologin Bruno Latourin (1947–)
aktiivisesti kehittämä toimijaverkkoteoria, joka korostaa paitsi sosiaalisten, myös materi-
aalisten tekijöiden osuutta teknologisten järjestelmien muotoutumisessa. Teorian mukaan
sosiaalisten ja materiaalisten toimijoiden välinen suhde ei ole yksisuuntainen, mikä huo-
mio avaa kiinnostavia näkökulmia arkkitehtuuritutkimuksen kannalta. Olen ymmärtänyt
arkkitehtuurin symbolisen ilmaisun järjestelmäksi, jolla on oma logiikkansa ja toisaalta
rakentamisen teknologiseksi järjestelmäksi, jonka puitteissa rakentamisen käytännön
ongelmat ratkaistaan. Brittiläisen arkkitehtuuriteoreetikon Alan Colquhounin mukaan
symbolinen esittäminen ja empiirinen rakentaminen ovat samanaikaisia järjestelmiä.
Symbolinen esittäminen perustuu tosiasioihin ja arkkitehtuuri on aina sidottu tiettyyn
sosiaaliseen, teknologiseen ja taloudelliseen tilanteeseen.1 Olen käsittänyt rakennuksen
luonteeltaan monimuotoiseksi ihmisten, organisaatioiden ja materiaalisten toimijoiden
yhdessä muodostamaksi teknologiseksi järjestelmäksi. Tapaustutkimus käsittelee arkkiteh-
din ja muiden osapuolten välistä vuorovaikutusta yhden rakennushankkeen mittakaavassa.
Aalto voitti avoimen arkkitehtuurikilpailun 1929 ja pääsi vaikuttamaan rakennuksen
suunnitteluratkaisuihin kokonaisvaltaisella tavalla jo hankkeen alusta alkaen.
Tutkimuskysymykseksi muodostui, miten Aalto onnistui sovittamaan yhteen kan-
sainvälisen ideologian ja paikallisen rakentamisen kulttuurin suuresta lamasta kärsivässä
maassa, jonka rakennusteollisuuden teollistumisen aste oli verrattain vähäinen. Erityisen
huomion kohteena olivat ajankohdan uudet ratkaisut, kuten lämmitys-, ilmanvaihto-,
viemäröinti- ja sähköjärjestelmät: ketkä osasivat soveltaa niitä ja mitkä olivat kriittisiä
kysymyksiä niihin liittyvien ratkaisujen muotoutumisessa; olivatko järjestelmät niin
valmiita, että niitä oli mahdollista soveltaa sellaisenaan vai osallistuivatko hankkeen
arkkitehti tai muut toimijat niiden kehittämiseen; onko taloteknilliset järjestelmät luon-
tevaa ymmärtää osaksi Aallon arkkitehtuurin tektonista ratkaisua vastaavalla tavalla kuin
parantolan tunnettu betonirunko?
1 Colquhoun 1962, s. 508.
2
Avainsanat: Alvar Aalto, modernismi, Paimion parantola,
Suomi, CIAM, hygienia, rationalismi, rationalisointi, standardit,
teknologia, Bruno Latour, toimijaverkkoteoria, rakentamisen
historia, sairaala, parantola
3
ABSTRACT
T
he doctoral dissertation of Marianna Heikinheimo, Master of Science in
Architecture, Master of Fine Arts, in the field of architectural history Architec-
ture and Technology: Alvar Aalto’s Paimio Sanatorium discusses the relationship
between architecture and technology in Paimio Sanatorium (1928–1933), designed by
the renowned Finnish master architect, Alvar Aalto. The building is considered the
turning point in Aalto’s career and one of the most significant works of international
Modernism in the inter-war period. In the face of increasingly rapid industrialisation
and urbanisation, European architecture was at the time undergoing a dramatic ideo-
logical shift. Aalto came into contact with avant-garde architects through the organi-
sation Congrès Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne (CIAM) from 1929 onwards.
Aalto’s aim with the design for Paimio Sanatorium, the most challenging assignment of
his career so far, was to apply the new approach to architecture.
The theoretical underpinning for the study is the actor-network theory developed
by the French sociologist Bruno Latour (1947). Besides the social theory, it also assigns
a role for material factors in the evolution of technological systems. In this theory, the
relationship between social and material actants is reciprocal, an observation which opens
up interesting angles into architectural research. For the purpose of this dissertation, I
understand symbolic expression in architecture as a system with its own logic and, in
contrast, construction as a technological system forming the framework within which the
practical problems of building are resolved. According to the British architect and scholar
Alan Colquhoun, symbolic representation and empirical building are parallel systems.
Symbolic representation is based on facts while architecture is bound to a given social,
technological or economic situation in time.2 A building with all its qualities and features
has, in the present study, been understood as a technological system formed by people,
organisations and material actors. The case study deals with the interaction between the
architect and the other stakeholders within the scope of one building project. Aalto won
the open architectural competition in 1929 and was able to influence the overall design
solutions of the building from the very beginning of the project.
This study investigates how Aalto managed to reconcile international ideology and
local building culture in a country where the degree of industrialisation in the building
sector was relatively low. Specific attention has been given to the solutions that were
new at the time, such as the heating, ventilation, sewage and electrical systems: who
knew how to implement them and what were the critical points to consider in devel-
oping the solutions; were the systems sufficiently ready to be used as such, or did the
architect or other project stakeholders contribute to their development; is it plausible
to understand them as being part of Aalto’s tectonic approach in a way similar to the
well-known concrete frame of the sanatorium?
2 Colquhoun 1962, p. 508.
4
Key words: Alvar Aalto, Modernism, Paimio Sanatorium,
Finland, CIAM, hygiene, rationalism, rationalisation, standards,
technology, Bruno Latour, actor-network theory, construction
history, hospitals, TB sanatorium
5
Aalto University publication series
Doctoral dissertations 1/2016
School of Arts, Design and Architecture

Aalto ARTS Books
Helsinki
books.aalto.fi
© Marianna Heikinheimo
Translated from Finnish by Tytti Laine

Graphic design and layout by Annina Kivikari
Materials: Invercote Creato 260 g and Munken Lynx 120 g

Fonts: Proxima Nova and Adobe Caslon Pro
Cover photo: Pietinen, 1936. HK19670603:27640. NBA. Image has been edited.
ISBN 978-952-60-6568-7 (printed)

ISBN 978-952-60-6569-4 (pdf)
ISSN-L 1799-4934
ISSN 1799-4934 (printed)
ISSN 1799-4942 (pdf)
Unigrafia
Helsinki, 2016
6
CONTENTS
TIIVISTELMÄ 2
ABSTRACT 4
FOREWORD 8
1
INTRODUCTION 13
1.1 The Research Question 25
1.2 Bruno Latour’s Actor-Network Theory 27
1.3 The Research Context 32
1.4 The Research Methods and Materials 53
1.5 The Scope and the Concepts 59
1.6 The Structure of This Dissertation 68
2
A LV A R A A LT O ’ S P R O F E S S I O N A L N E T W O R K S 7 1
2.1 Aalto’s Literary Output 76
2.2 The Sphere of Avant-Gardist Influences 79
2.3 “My Latest Buildings Will Be Built Exclusively from Concrete” 85
2.4 The Dwelling for Minimum Existence 96
2.5 On the Relationship between Sven Markelius and Alvar Aalto 106
2.6 The Horizontal Sliding Window 116
2.7 The Rational Site Planning 119
2.8 Building Paimio Sanatorium in the Media 123
2.9 The Wizard of the North 132
3
T H E B U I L D I N G O F PA I M I O S A N AT O R I U M 137
3.1 The Social Stakeholders of the Sanatorium Building Project 140
3.2 The Financial Circumstances Surrounding the Building Project 168
3.3 The Reinforced Concrete Frame: A Great Architectural Challenge 176
3.4 The Hybrid Windows 204
3.5 The Standardised Patient Room 225
3.6 A Massive Infrastructure Project Brought into a Pristine Landscape 262
4
CONCLUSIONS 287
4.1 Aalto’s Concept of Technology 289
4.2 The Locality of Construction 297
4.3 Latour’s Concepts at Work 303
SOURCES 311
7
FOREWORD
P
aimio Sanatorium (1928–1933) is considered a key work by Alvar Aalto
(1898–1976), who enjoys the unmitigated status of a national hero in Finland.
The inter-war period, and particularly this building has been widely discussed
within architectural research in Finland. Why, then, is it necessary to devote any
further scientific attention to a building about which we already know so much?
Conducting research into a central work by a legendary architect is inevitably
challenging because it is difficult to question the premise of such a work. Alvar Aalto
is regarded as a doyen of form-giving and a master of different scales. Even my alma
mater carries the name of Aalto. While we are well aware of and familiar with the
buildings, chairs and vases he designed, we are far less knowledgeable about his part-
ner networks, motives, doubts or the crossroads at which he found himself, when
there was no obvious solution for bringing the idea to its realisation. I was particularly
interested in the situations, in which he had to use his persuasive skills to convince
other stakeholders involved in the project of the superiority of his solutions. I was
keen to learn, how he operated and what his objectives were. Although there is a
wealth of literature available on Aalto’s oeuvre, so far only one other doctoral thesis
has been completed in Finland on his architecture: Markku Norvasuo’s dissertation
Taivaskattoinen huone (A Room with a Sky Ceiling). During the early stages of writing
the present dissertation, I received valuable encouragement from my then supervisor,
Professor Vilhem Helander, who assured me that even the smallest addition of new
knowledge on and insight into Paimio Sanatorium would be a valuable outcome. I
have naturally availed myself of earlier key research in order to understand how the
building has so far been discussed and what we know of Aalto’s architecture. I find
that Aalto as the mythical hero of Finnish architecture merits critical research based
on primary sources.
I decided to focus on Paimio Sanatorium and so my work gradually evolved into
the present case study. I gained first-hand experience of Aalto’s architecture in my
capacity as the project architect for the restoration of Vyborg City Library in 1997
and 1998, part of the centenary of Aalto’s birth, with funding from the Ministry of
Education and Culture. I had also trained as an architect and worked in buildings
designed by Aalto. When designing the restoration work on the flat roof of the Vyborg
City Library lecture hall wing, I studied Aalto’s eaves structure detailing and came to
understand on a very practical level, how he resolved the application of a new structure
in our specific climate and found an architectural expression for it. Initially, I set out
to compare the technical systems of the Vyborg City Library and Paimio Sanatorium.
I abandoned the comparative element, with the Vyborg City Library and any other of
Aalto’s designs, in the course of my work as my understanding of the nature of technical
systems deepened and my theoretical perspective sharpened: the study of technical sys-
tems matured into the study of technological systems. For the purposes of the present
dissertation, I have approached technological systems as heterogeneous entities shaped
8
by human, organisational and material factors.3 With technical systems, I have referred
to the mechanical or material dimension of technological systems. Comparing Paimio
Sanatorium with another building had become redundant for my chosen theoretical
perspective, which directed me towards an anthropological approach and guided me
to concentrate on a single project. After launching my study on Paimio Sanatorium, in
2000, the National Board on Antiquities commissioned a historical building survey on
Paimio Sanatorium from me and my team working on a consultancy basis.4 This gave
me the opportunity to study the building at close range on site and to form an informed
opinion.5 Furthermore, there are large amounts of source material on this architecturally
ambitious, major institution and its construction and the architect himself was a prolific
writer – all of which allowed me to pursue my elected approach to Paimio Sanatorium.
I launched into my dissertation research in 1999 at the national graduate school,
in architecture. The first version of my dissertation, which I completed towards the
end of graduate school was unsatisfactory in my own opinion. I had digressed into
studying Aalto’s patents and Finnish steel windows of the 1930s.6 I put active research
work on hold to pursue my other professional interests, until 2010, when I revived my
research project. My topic remained the same, only now my focus had shifted more
significantly towards discussing Aalto’s architectural theories, and I chose Bruno
Latour’s actor-network theory as the major theoretical framework for my study and
a tool for analysing the evolution of the technological solutions adopted at Paimio
Sanatorium. A well-known subject matter demands a fresh angle for the study to be
of any interest, and immersing oneself into the subject matter and interpreting the
findings requires a great deal of work.
My dissertation studies were supervised by Professor Kimmo Lapintie, PhD, Aalto
University, and instructed by Renja Suominen-Kokkonen, PhD, adjunct professor,
Department of Philosophy, History, Culture and Art Studies, University of Helsinki. In
the early stages of the work, my instructor was Professor Vilhelm Helander, followed for
a short period by Professor Aino Niskanen, PhD. I would like to thank all my instruc-
tors, and especially Renja Suominen-Kokkonen, for their encouraging and challenging
comments and persistent pedagogical work. The preliminary examiners of my work,
Professor Emeritus Claes Caldenby, PhD, from Chalmers University of Technology,
3 See e.g. Hughes 1989, pp. 184–185.

4 The author’s team compiled a report on Paimio Sanatorium commissioned by the National Board of Antiquities,
the City of Paimio and Turku University Central Hospital. The report was completed in 2000 and formed the basis
for the Ministry of Education and Culture’s submission to the UNESCO World Heritage Sites. Heikinheimo et al.,
Ark-byroo architects 2000.
5 Wang 2002, p. 161.
6 My study on Aalto’s patents was published in a brief article in Ptah magazine in 2004 and a separate study on
steel windows in the Helsinki University of Technology publication series in 2002. See Heikinheimo 2004 and
Heikinheimo 2002.
9
Gothenburg, and Professor Annemarie Adams, PhD, from McGill University, Mon-
treal, provided invaluable comments and suggestions, for which I am grateful.
A decisive factor for me being able to carry out research was being selected as a
research student to the national graduate school in architecture between 1999 and 2002
at Helsinki University of Technology. I was also able to attend the research seminar
in art history for a year at the University of Helsinki, thanks to the kind permission
of Professor Emerita Riitta Nikula, PhD, as well as the study circles on the history of
technology run by Karl-Eric Michelsen, PhD, and Ilkka Herlin, PhD. My work was
also funded at its initial stage by the Finnish Cultural Foundation with a one-year grant
and the Wihuri Foundation with a grant that allowed me to participate on a course on
the conservation of modern architecture.7 Thanks to the travel grant awarded by HUT,
I was able to visit and study Zonnestraal Sanatorium in Hilversum, the Netherlands,
and to attend the docomomo seminar on colour in architecture held in Belgium. Since
2010, I have funded my research work myself. I have received support for the translation
and publication of my dissertation from Aalto University School of Arts, Design and
Architecture. Without the encouraging support of external funding, carrying out this
work would have been immeasurably more difficult.
I would like to express my sincere thanks to all those who have provided valuable
commentary on my work at the numerous seminars at the Department of Architecture
of the Aalto University, the Department of Architecture of the Oulu University of
Technology, Department of Architecture of the Tampere University of Technology,
the Nordic architectural researcher seminar in Oslo, Department of Philosophy of the
University of Gothenburg, Department of Art History of the University of Jyväskylä,
Department of Art History of the University of Helsinki, and the seminars of the
Aalto researcher network in 2011 and 2012.8 Translator Tytti Laine has translated a
major part of the Finnish-language manuscript into English, and the English language
revision was conducted by Keith Baddeley. Architect Franz Betcke and translator Rose-
mary McKenzie have also translated parts of my work over the years. Editor Sanna
Tyyri-Pohjonen has managed my publication at Aalto ARTS Books publishers, and
graphic artist Annina Kivikari has created the visual design for my work. I would like to
thank my language professionals, editor and graphic artist for their valuable contribu-
tion to the completion of my work. Any inaccuracies or errors are my own.
The encouragement from my close friends has helped me keep the research project
alive alongside my other duties. I would like to express my special gratitude to my
mother Maija-Liisa Leppänen and my husband Sami Heikinheimo as well as my whole
family for all their material and mental support and their help in daily life. I dedicate my
dissertation to my children Juuso and Jenny.
7 Conservation of Modern Architecture MARC 99, organised in Helsinki in 1999 by ICCROM, docomomo and HUT.
8 The first seminar, held in Helsinki in 2011, was attended by Finnish Aalto scholars, while the second seminar,
which took place in Seinäjoki in 2012, was international. The seminars were organised on the initiative of Susanna
Pettersson, PhD, art historian and then Director of the Aalto Foundation.
10
Fig. 1a. The vignette image for the competition-stage
design depicts the patient room window. Detail of
drawing No. 50-655, the drawing has been edited. AAM.
1 2 3 4
Introduction
13
I
n the face of increasingly rapid industrialisation and urbanisation, European
architecture underwent a dramatic ideological shift in the inter-war period. The
question was not only about the synthesis of rational technological applications
and construction methods but also about the creation of a great narrative.9 Accord-
ing to the British Professor John Gold, the first-generation historians did not see
their own contribution to the evolution of the architectural theory of the time in
anyway problematic, although it was simultaneously the object of their research.10
He maintains that these historians paid attention to rationalist phenomena while
emphasising the idea of Zeitgeist (Spirit of the Age) developed by romantic philos-
ophers, and pushed other, concurrent phenomena to the side. One representative of
this generation was the Swiss art historian Sigfried G iedion (1888–1968), who was
also a friend of Alvar Aalto. The two men first met while Giedion was serving as
CIAM’s11 secretary general, and they became family friends and eventually business
partners12. The next-generation informants have since studied a host of other factors
that united the movement and opened up a new perspective into the history of the
Modernist movement.13 The main work by Reyner Banham (1922–1988), who repre-
sented the younger generation of researchers, from 1960, entitled Theory and Design
in the First Machine Age, is widely known among the architectural profession and has
also been used in the training of architects at Finnish universities. Both theoreticians
are considered central to the investigation into Modernismin the inter-war period
and, in particular, to the relationship between architecture and technology.
Sigfried Giedion was invited to Harvard in 1938 and published a book in 1941
entitled Space, Time and Architecture based on his lectures given in the United States in
the late 1930s and early 1940s. In this work, he discussed the idea of modern architec-
ture as a kind of fusion of time and space. According to Sokratis Georgiadis, who has
studied the life and career of Giedion, Giedion approached modern architecture as an
image of reality in which intellect and emotional sensitivity converged. The concept of
space was central to Giedion’s thinking and he saw architecture as providing a solution
to the problem of space. Giedion’s views on architecture were also influenced by the
intellectual climate of the time as well as the changing social conditions and the availa-
ble construction techniques, which were particularly evident in the concept of Zeitgeist.
Giedion understood that the changes in the way space was perceived were the result
of the shift in the surrounding philosophical attitudes.14 For Giedion, industrialisation
9 Gold 1997, pp. 2–3.

10 According to Gold’s interpretation, this period was represented by Henry Russel-Hitchcock, Nicolaus Pevsner and
Sigfried Giedion. Gold 1997, pp. 2–3.
11 The French name of the CIAM organization was Congrès Internationaux d’Architecture Moderne, and the German
name was Die Internationale Kongresse für Neues Bauen.
12 Giedion’s company, Wohnbedarf, began selling furniture designed by Aalto in the early 1930s. Rüegg, A.
1998, pp. 119–133.
13 This period was dominated by Reyner Banham, Charles Jenks and Alfredo Tafuri. Scholars who developed a
new reading of the history of Modernism included cultural historians, building and design historians and feminist
historians. Gold 1997, pp. 7–8.
14 Giedion 1949 [1941], pp. 2–28; Georgiadis 1993, pp. 148–149.
14
Chapter 1 | Introduction
was a precondition to the architecture of the new age.15 He traced the foundations
for the development in the 1900s to the previous century.16 Georgiadis has criticised
Giedion’s historical interpretations for being selective.17 Giedion shared Le Corbusier’s
(1887–1965) view that the new century and the Machine Age were an awakening for the
architect.18 Giedion had emphasised the importance of social responsibility while oper-
ating within the sphere of influence of CIAM, in his publication of 1941, he rephrased
his opinion and merely expected morality from Modernism.19
In his doctoral dissertation, Theory and Design in the First Machine Age, Banham
highlighted the impact of Futurists as the true pioneers of Modernism and emphasised
the symbolic value of the Modernism of the first few decades of the 1900s, and also
conducted a critical study of Le Corbusier’s writings.20 Banham’s relationship with
Le Corbusier’s literary output is remarkably different from that of Giedion. Vers une
Architecture (Towards a New Architecture) was in Banham’s view a collection of loosely
linked texts, with the author attempting to create some sense of cohesion between
them simply by including them in the same publication. Banham divided the chapters
in Le Corbusier’s book into those with an academic underpinning and those discussing
mechanistic topics. As he pointed out, these themes varied throughout the book. Ban-
ham also paid attention to the fact that Le Corbusier used illustrations to create both
historical and aesthetic oppositions.21
Banham understood the relationship between early 20th century avant-garde and
technological progress from the perspective of philosophy. He argued that Mies van der
Rohe’s Barcelona Pavilion’s (1929) extensive and rich use of modern materials alongside
traditional marble was an example of juxtaposing the artistic and the non-artistic. He
saw that such an approach came from Dadaism, Futurism and the papier collé works
of the Cubists. In the final Chapter of his dissertation, “Architecture and Technology”,
Banham praises the material and immaterial illusionism of Le Corbusier’s Villa Les
Heures Claires (Villa Savoye) and refers to the building as a home of a “fully motor-
ised post-Futurist family”. In Banham’s view, no single criterion would ever suffice to
explain the architecture of these buildings.22
15 Giedion 1944 [1941], p. 116; Georgiadis 1993, p. 102.

16 Giedion 1949 [1941], Chapter III pp. 97–224, especially pp. 146–152.
17 Giedion ignored, for example, many 19th century phenomena, such as style imitations. Georgiadis 1993, pp. 103–105.
18 Giedion refers to Le Corbusier in L’Esprit Nouveau (Paris 1924), No. 25. Giedion 1944 [1941], p. 152.
19 Giedion 1949 [1941], pp. 645–652; Georgiadis 1993, p. 107.
20 Banham’s Design and Theory in the First Machine Age is divided into five Chapters, the first of which discusses
academic and rationalistic writers from the period 1900–1914. Chapter 2 discusses the Italian Futurist manifestos
and projects, Chapter 3 the Netherlands and de Stijl movement in 1917–1925, Chapter 4 Paris and Chapter 5
Germany and Bauhaus. Banham, p. 1999 [1960].
21 Banham, p. 1999 [1960], pp. 220–246.
22 Banham 1999 [1960], pp. 321–325.
15
Banham made an interesting observation that the machine-romantic features dis-
appeared from the architecture of the decade before World War II: machines inspired
architects as long as their mechanisms were in full view, and only a few actually under-
stood how they worked.23 Banham argued that Modernists betrayed their vision of the
future of the Machine Age by remaining loyal to the academic canon. In his opinion, an
in-depth study of the first quarter of the 20th century would bring out the real movers
and shakers whose concept of technology was overshadowed by romanticising tradition.
Banham maintained that the Futurists had a decisive impact in the Modernist ideology,
as their imagery was not symbolic like Le Corbusier’s.24
In my view, Banham overlooked the possibility that the relationship between
architects and technology may have been different in the 1920s and 1930s. Many such
technological systems that were developed as part of military industry had been intro-
duced into the lives of consumers, at least the more wealthy ones, a decade later. Cases
in point are the radio and the airplane. By the 1930s, architects had stopped associating
technological systems with similar futuristic expectations and replaced this with a hope
that technology could help bring about an easier life for the masses. The attitude of
architects towards technology appeared to have become more optimistic.
According to Banham, many 1930s proponents of modern architecture rejected sym-
bolism because they came from outside the pioneering countries and therefore joined the
movement at a later stage, after the creative debates and confrontations that determined
the direction of the movement had already dissipated. Banham sees the prevailing ethos
in society as another contributing factor for the disinterest in symbolism: in the early
1930s, a style could only be justified on logical and economic grounds, and any aesthetic
or symbolistic values would only have been met with sheer hostility.25
Banham believed that technology based on science could change our traditional
ways of thinking and thereby architecture. Indeed, in his own work he attempted to
expand our view on the relationship between architecture and technology, but was
sceptical of whether the early 1960s architectural thinking and new knowledge about
technology could ever be reconciled.26 Anthony Vidler, who has studied the historical
enquiry into Modernism, has argued that Banham’s aim was to free the mechanistic
from the hegemony of the academic, and he embraced science and technology in a way
that superseded the symbolism of the modern movement.27
In his work published in 1969, Banham praised the fact that the previous generation
of architectural historians had brought structures and materials into the narrative of
modern architecture. However, architects themselves had, in his view, failed to inte-
grate technological systems into their artistic expression. To the chagrin of architects,
23 Banham 1999 [1960], p. 328.

24 Banham 1999 [1960], pp. 99–138; Vidler 2005, pp. 116–117.
25 The international style was outlawed in Germany and Russia, while in France it lacked financial resources to
flourish, in fascist Italy its supporters were few, in the UK people had no interest in the aesthetic and the United
States was in depression. Banham 1999 [1960], pp. 320–321.
26 Banham 1999 [1960], p. 329; Vidler 2005, pp. 131–132.
27 Vidler 2005, pp. 155–156.
16
technological matters were governed by other professionals, ranging from plumbers to

consulting engineers. According to Banham, the technological systems had also been
more or less completely forgotten in architectural history.28
According to Göran Schildt (1917–2009), Alvar Aalto, belonged to those who
optimistically sought to develop architecture into an objective science complying with
the new ideology, and focused on the rational analysis of component functions in the
problematic of architecture since the latter part of the 1920s.29 Beginning in 1926,
Aalto’s personal friendship with his Swedish colleagues, Gunnar Asplund (1885–1940)
and Sven Markelius (1889–1972), linked him to the circle of socially and technically
progressive architects in Sweden, who were in touch with Walter Gropius (1883–1969)
and the German Bauhaus school, the architects of the Dutch De Stilj group, and Le
Corbusier (1887–1965) in France.30 In 1929, Markelius and Aalto both participated in
CIAM’s second conference. The organisation provided a forum for seminars, exhibi-
tions and personal connections and, as a whole, formed the basis for the development of
Aalto’s thinking, architecture and international network at the time.
The Paimio Sanatorium project, an extensive institutional complex, dates back to
those years. Critics have canonised Paimio Sanatorium (1928–1933) as an interna-
tionally recognised masterpiece of modern architecture, and considered it, along with
the Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building (1928–1930) and the Vyborg City Library
(1927–1935), to be the breakthrough work of Alvar Aalto. Numerous architectural
magazines published the project outside Finland in the 1930s and The Museum of
Modern Art in New York displayed it at the Alvar Aalto: Architecture and Furniture
exhibition in 1938, along with the other two buildings mentioned above.31 Sigfried
Giedion recapitulated the architectural development of the pre-war years in Space,
Time and Architecture. With the second extended edition, published in 1949,32 he
considered Paimio Sanatorium to be one of the three most important institutional
buildings associated with the rise of contemporary architecture, the other two being
the Bauhaus at Dessau by Walter Gropius (1926) and the project for the League
of Nations Palace at Geneva by Le Corbusier (1927), the latter of which was never
constructed.33 Paimio Sanatorium has been praised for crystallising functionalistic
architecture34 and for being a building in which Aalto developed a special architectural
solution for the specific needs of a tuberculosis sanatorium, while fulfilling the general
Modernist requirement of “light, air and sun” and achieving high hygiene standards
that were in line with state-of-the-art tuberculosis treatment at that time.35
28 Banham 1984 [1969], p. 9–14.

29 Schildt 1985, pp. 14–18.
30 Schildt 1997a, p. 58; Schildt 1997b, p. 58.
31 Riley 1998, p. 14.
32 Giedion 1949 [1941], p. 463; Schildt 1985, p. 64; Jokinen 2014, p. 41.
33 In Chapter VI of the original edition, “Space-time in Art, Architecture and Construction”, he discussed the work of
Walter Gropius and Le Corbusier only. In later editions, he extended his scope to include works by Mies van der
Rohe, Alvar Aalto and Jørn Utzon. See Giedion 1944 [1941] and 1949 [1941].
34 Heinonen 1986, p. 242; Saarikangas 2002, p. 92.
35 Heinonen 1986, p. 242.
17
There was an acute demand for sanatoria in Finland, as tuberculosis was the coun-
try’s most pressing national health issue of the time. 36 Eradicating tuberculosis became
a national endeavour in the first few decades of the 20th century. The disease was not
confined to urban areas but spread in rural areas to a similar degree. Preventive meas-
ures played a major role in this effort. Population-wide screening was introduced in the
1930s with the aid of portable x-ray equipment. 37 Local authorities assumed increasing
responsibility for the care of tuberculosis patients from the 1910s onwards, and in the
1920s a whole movement for the prevention of the disease emerged. Collaboration
between municipalities became an established practice with the 1929 Act on State Aid
for tuberculosis hospitals and the 1932 Amendment to the Municipalities Act regard-
ing Municipal Federations.38 Eight new, large hospitals were built in Finland, adding
2,500 new hospital beds for tuberculosis patients. The daily care routine included rest,
fresh air and a healthy diet, which often helped alleviate the symptoms of the disease. 39
Aalto won the design commission for Southwestern Finland Tuberculosis Sanato-
rium, known as Paimio Sanatorium through an open architectural competition held
between 1928 and 1929. When he won the competition in January 1929, the young
architect was faced with an unprecedented task. His previous experience in hospital
design was modest40 and, through his then uncompleted projects, he was only starting to
learn how to manage a large-scale project.41 The Building Board steering the sanatorium
project was strongly committed to go through with the work for three reasons. Firstly,
the state considered lung tuberculosis the greatest threat to public health;42 secondly, the
Parliament legislated financing with the new Act on state aid to hospitals for tuberculo-
sis passed in May 1929;43 and thirdly the Building Board considered Aalto’s architectural
solution convincing44. Aalto and his architectural practice started work on the design in
1929, and the construction work started in 1930. The design work continued into 1932
and the Building Board completed the construction work in 1933. Aalto wanted to
incorporate his Modernist ideas into the work. He found himself having to convince the
other stakeholders of the feasibility of his ideas in order to win the mandate to execute
36 The tuberculosis mortality rate was close to two per thousand incidents in Finland during the 1930s. Forsius 2000b.
37 Forsius 2000a.
38 Forsius 2000b.
39 The medical treatments used in Finland in the inter-war period included the pneumothorax and plombage tech-
nique, which means inserting air or an inert substance such as oil into the pleural space, collapsing the lung to
allow it to rest and heal. Other methods included thoracoplasty and phrenic nerve crush. See e.g. Forsius 2000a.
40 In 1924, Aalto had designed a log-framed, classicist hospital building with four patient rooms, a special ward, an
operating theatre, a nurses’ room and an office, built in a remote village of Alajärvi in southern Ostrobothnia. The
hospital was altered during its construction as per instructions of the master builder Eeli Ojala, whose opinion
Aalto dutifully respected. Schildt 1995, 67; Aalto also participated in the invited competition for the Central Finland
tuberculosis sanatorium in 1927 without success. Raija Heinonen studied Aalto’s hospital designs from 1927–1931.
Heinonen 1986, p. 235.
41 The Southwest Finland Agricultural Cooperative Building project took place in 1927–1929, the Turun Sanomat News
paper Building in 1928–1930 and the Defense Corps Building in Jyväskylä in 1926–1929. Heporauta 1999, pp. 10–25.
42 Tuberculosis mortality rate in Finland in the late 1920s and early 1930s was approximately two in one thousand.
New cases were detected at the rate of two to three in one thousand, and the number of registered cases was
eight to nine in one thousand with four to six in one thousand placed in hospital care. Forsius 2000b.
43 Valtionapua koskeva laki 269/1929 ja asetus 207/1929. (Act No. 269/1929 and Decree No. 270/1929 on the State Aid).
44 The jury considered Aalto’s proposal architecturally interesting and the disposition of functions generally success-
ful. Some measurements were, however, criticised. Anon, 1929b, pp. 42–46.
18
them. This was particularly challenging in Finland, which was, at the time, highly agri-
cultural as a society and struggling under the great economic depression.
For the purpose of this dissertation, I understand symbolic expression in architec-
ture as a system with its own logic and, in contrast, construction as a system forming
the framework within which the practical problems of building are resolved. According
to the British architect and scholar Alan Colquhoun, symbolic representation and
empirical building are parallel systems. Symbolic representation is based on facts, while
architecture is bound to a given social, technological or economic situation in time.45
In my opinion, a case study enables the appropriate level of accuracy in studying the
interaction between the architect’s world of ideas and other builders. The locality of
architecture, in other words, the encounter of an international ideology and a local
reality as illustrated by one project, is at the core of the present study. Aalto held a
central role in Paimio Sanatorium project from the very beginning, which allowed him
to influence the entire scope of design solutions.
The objective of this research was to examine how the relationship between archi-
tecture and technology was resolved locally in Paimio Sanatorium. When a building
is constructed, ideas gain a material manifestation and the architect learns from the
process of building through interaction with other stakeholders. I have elaborated
on the ideas of Modernist architects and the role of the architect in the execution
phase, working together with a number of different stakeholders. My observations have
focused on subsystems derived from the ideological points of departure or paradigms
of the era, including the reinforced concrete frame, windows and the environment for
human activities within the frame, more precisely in the patient room. I have studied
the significance of the many discourses that the architect engaged in as part of the
design process of the building as well as its construction, and analysed Alvar Aalto’s
concept of technology.
45 Colquhoun 1962, p. 508.
19
Fig. 1b. Site plan of the completed hospital showing the main building and its wings A–D, the Junior
Physicians’ and Administrative Director’s terraced house facing the hospital entrance and workers’
apartment building. Detail of drawing No. 50-759, the drawing has been edited. AAM.
PAIMIO SANATORIUM
A wing Patients’ wing and nurses apartments
B wing Reception, operating theatre, phototherapy treatment, dining hall, library, workshops and staff dormitory
C wing Staff dormitory, kitchen and laundry
D wing District heating plant
E Junior Physicians’ and Administrative Director’s terraced house
F Workers’ apartment building
20
Fig. 1.1a. The general view of the cour d’honneur between wings B and A is asymmetrical. Photographer
Gustav Welin, 1932. Photo No. 50-003-157. AAM.
Fig. 1.1b. View towards the hospital from the east. Photographer Gustav Welin, 1933. Photo No. 50-003-
303. AAM.
21
Fig. 1.1c. Junior Physicians and the Administrative Director were built a modern terraced house. Photo
No. 50-003-448, from the 1930s. AAM.
Fig. 1.1d. In the foreground the Medical Director’s villa, which was situated further away from the
hospital. Photo No. 50-003-465, from the 1930s. AAM.
22
Fig. 1.1e. Alvar Aalto on the roof of Paimio Sanatorium. Photographer Gunnar Asplund, 1932. Photo No.
50-003-108. AAM.
Fig.1.1f. The sundeck. Photographer Gustav Welin, 1933. Photo No. 50-003-265 AAM.
23
Fig. 1.1g. The canopy covering the main entrance evolved during construction and became asymmetrical. In
the background, the ribbon windows of patient corridors. Photographer Aino Marsio-Aalto, 1932. Photo No.
50-003-162. AAM.
Fig. 1.1h Patients taking fresh air. The sun decks had plant containers with mountain pines and the
garden had geometrically arranged footpaths for patients’ outdoor walks. Photographer Gustav Welin,
1932. Photo No. 50-003-266. AAM.
24
1 .1 T H E R E S E A R C H Q U E S T I O N
A
new architectural ideology was championed in the Europe of the interbellum
period by architects active in CIAM, who embraced in their professional dis-
course the rationalistic management techniques developed in the United States.
This discourse involved exhibitions and other events, articles, architectural publications,
unrealised designs and completed building projects. The central theoreticians of Modern-
ism, Walter Gropius and Le Corbusier, failed to acknowledge the culture-bound dimen-
sions of buildings.46 Their avant-gardist discourse was a deliberate departure from the past.
Aalto drew influences from culturally radical Modernistic discourse and applied
new thoughts to his work. He felt that architecture should respond to the demands
of the age, that is, modernisation. Although Modernism ignored the significance of
local culture in building, buildings are inevitably tied both to time and place. The
main research question became: How did Aalto manage to reconcile international
ideology and local building culture in a country where the degree of industrialisation
in the building sector was relatively low? This research also analysed the ways in
which international discourse was translated into practical solutions in Paimio Sana-
torium project in 1928–1933.
The general question subsumed several related questions: How was technology
perceived in the architectural discourse of the time, by the main ideologists acting in
CIAM; and how did Aalto reflect these ideas and discuss technology in his writings
in 1928–1933? In this research, the architecture of Paimio Sanatorium and Aalto’s
texts were discussed in relation to the international discourse. It also examined how
Aalto used mass media to construct images.
Special attention was paid to finding out which building parts of the sanatorium
Aalto was most interested in. The number and quality of design documents drawn
revealed which parts of the project he chose to design himself and when he would
use prefabricated parts available on the market instead of a special design. Were these
building parts to which he paid special attention the same as those that were high-
lighted in the international discourse? And again, to which technological systems did
he pay only little attention?
The systems for heating, ventilation, sewage and electrical installations developed
rapidly in the early decades of the 20th century and the demand to incorporate them
into the architectural overall design became paramount. Who knew how to imple-
ment these new systems and what were the critical points to consider in developing
the solutions? Were the systems ready to be used as such or did the architect or other
project stakeholders contribute to their development? Furthermore, is it plausible to
understand them as being part of Aalto’s tectonic approach?
The subject matter of this research was to study in what ways specific architectural
solutions were developed in interaction between different players in the heterogeneous
46 Hartoonian 1997, p. 38.
25
process of building, comprising both human and mechanical factors: Who and what
influenced the technological solutions and systems of Paimio Sanatorium, in what way
did these players influence the process and how did the process affect them? This research
attempted to bring out the interplay, especially between the architect, the client, the engi-
neers, the builders and the material world.
The study started with the notion that the architectural solutions implementing new
ideas of organisation, constructional techniques or other techniques in Paimio Sanato-
rium, such as the reinforced concrete skeleton or heating systems, developed remarkably
from the competition entry in 1929 to the finalised building. Something kept happening
between the drawing desk and the assembly.47 It is quite natural, however, that architec-
tural design, especially the detailing, develops through the design process. Special atten-
tion was paid to the architect’s role, whose aim was to convince all the other stakeholders
of the superiority of his solutions: How did he express his ideas, justify his views and
act to reach his goals? The working hypothesis was that the architectural solutions were
influenced by the process of materialising the building. The focus of this study was on the
process of design and building rather than on the end product.
I approached the relationship between the architecture and technology of Paimio
Sanatorium through the perspective of the French sociologist Bruno Latour’s actor-
network theory. I have discussed the design and the construction of the building as an
innovation process. According to Latour, a new hybrid, which in the present study was
represented by a building, acquires its shape simultaneously as a social, subjective and
material entity. According to Latour, the success of architecture, or any other techno-
logical hybrid, depends on how strongly interlinked the network of actors representing
different ontological categories is, in this case that of designers, builders and material
outcome. Below, I have applied Latour’s theory in a critical discussion of the delimitation
of the research object and the nature of the groups affecting decision-making.48 My aim
was to reveal the interrelations within the technological systems at Paimio Sanatorium.
Based on information available on the portal compiled and maintained by Bruno
Latour himself49 and on the portal of the Lancaster University, Action Network Theory
Resource: Thematic List 50, the present dissertation is among the few studies in the
field of architectural history to have used the actor-network theory as the theoretical
framework. Bruno Latour and Albena Yaneva, Professor in Architectural Theory at the
Manchester University, have published an article dealing with actor-network theory’s
view on architecture, which proved highly relevant to my own work.51
47 Latour has also drawn focus on the unpredictability of technological processes. See e.g. Latour and Yaneva 2008.
48 In his work Reassembling the Social, Latour argues that, instead of preconceived theories and methods,
researchers ought to pay attention to oppositions and uncertainties, the five most salient of which accord-
ing to Latour are the nature of groups, action, objects, knowledge and sociological research. Latour 2007
[2005], passim and especially pp. 21–22.
49 Bruno Latour’s home page related to his scientific work http://www.bruno-latour.fr. Latour 2011.
50 Unfortunately, the useful resource has not been updated since 2000. Lancaster University 2000.
51 Latour and Yaneva 2008.
26
1 . 2 B R U N O L ATO U R ’ S
ACTOR-NETWORK THEORY
I
n the past few decades, the history of technology has been productively studied
from the perspective of social sciences, sociology in particular. Most studies have
attempted to distance themselves from technological determinism, according to
which man cannot intervene in the inner logic of technology. Many historians of
technology have, therefore, endeavoured to focus on the formation of a technological
solution, as a process. Instead of treating ”technology” per se as the locus of historical
agency, the “soft determinists” locate it in a far more complex social, economic, polit-
ical and cultural matrix.52 Understanding the past of technology requires that we
see it at the same time as a phenomenon that shapes society and one that is shaped
by different actors. Thus defined, technology is part of society and technological
change is part of social change.53 One exponent of this line of architectural research
is Thomas Markus, who has emphasised the nature of buildings as social objects, as
processes in constant transition and as tools of power and classification.54
The idea of reciprocity of the social and the material lends particular interest to
the actor-network theory developed by the French sociologist Bruno Latour from
the specific perspective of interpreting architecture, as he provides tools for tackling
the interplay between social networks and the material reality in a technology process,
which an architectural process can be classified as.
In their 2008 article “‘Give Me a Gun and I Will Make all Buildings Move’: An
ANT’s View of Architecture”, Bruno Latour and Albena Yaneva discuss the application
of actor-network theory in architecture. The authors hold that while buildings appear
static, they are in fact under constant transformation. However, it is all but impossible
to observe buildings as series of transformations or a contest of different forces.55
Latour and Yaneva see perspective drawing (3D modeling), which is based on
Euclidian geometry, as reductive. It falls short, for example, of representing various
social demands affecting the building process. Furthermore, the materiality of a build-
ing cannot be presented through Euclidian models. Latour and Yaneva take a critical
view of geometrical and mathematical models created by engineers being understood as
exhaustive representations of the “material” world. According to the authors, materiality
cannot be reduced to “objectivity”. For them, Euclidian geometry ultimately offers a
relatively subjective, human-centred or at least knowledge-centred approach, which
does not do any justice to the way humans and things exist.56
52 Marx and Smith 1998 [1994], p. xiii.

53 MacKenzeit & Wajcman 1987, pp. 3–6, cited in Michelsen 2000, p. 73.
54 See Markus 1993, especially Chapter 1.
55 Ibidem.
56 Latour and Yaneva 2008, p. 84.
27
Latour and Yaneva further state that architects need to utilise different manners of
representation and materials in order to reconcile all the different demands targeted
at the design during the construction process. Drawings and models constitute no
immediate means of translating ideas into material reality, but rather serve as tools for
the architect to develop these ideas and to explore different options.57 I agree with the
authors in that architectural drawings do not, as such, equal material realisation, as the
process of realisation involves many other factors besides the nature of the material,
the production method, the executors of the design and the various demands on the
material and labour, such as low price or hygienic standards.
The article by Latour and Yaneva is philosophical in its angle and they distance
themselves from architectural praxis fairly substantially. This fact is manifest in, for
example, their specific discussion on geometric projections as a way of representation.
In a real building project, architects use other channels of communication in addition
to their drawings, including work specifications, negotiation with other designers, the
client and the authorities, and overseeing the building project and attending meetings.
Moreover, some of the working drawings will be made by others. Architects extend
their influence on drawings made by others through their role as the coordinator of the
design process. While the present study is partly based on Aalto’s drawing documenta-
tion, his “other” actions become especially interesting from the perspective of analysing
how the architect manages to influence and redirect other actors’ objectives to better
align with those of his own.
Latour and Yaneva ask what the advantage of such a method of representation that
communicates a building as continuation of transformations could be. In their view,
such a method would erase the gap between the “subjective” and “objective”. 58 It would
also pay more attention to the material side of things, and the multidimensionality of
material would no longer be reduced to 3D models. Since architectural design covers a
vast spectrum of factors, which theory seldom succeeds in emcompassing, they propose
a new type of model: “We should finally be able to picture a building as a navigation
through a controversial datascape: as an animated series of projects, successful and
failing, as a changing and crisscrossing trajectory of unstable definitions and expertise,
of recalcitrant materials and building technologies, of flip-flopping users’ concerns and
communities’ appraisals. That is, we should finally be able to picture a building as a
moving modulator regulating different intensities of engagement, redirecting users’
attention, mixing and putting people together, concentrating flows of actors and dis-
tributing them so as to compose a productive force in time-space…Only by generating
earthly accounts of buildings and design processes, tracing pluralities of concrete enti-
ties in the specific spaces and times of their co-existence, instead of referring to abstract
57 Ibidem.
58 They argue that phenomenologists are upholding the Descartian notion of res extensa. Latour and Yaneva 2008,
pp. 82–84 and p. 86.
28
theoretical frameworks outside architecture, will architectural theory become a relevant

field for architects, for end users, for promoters, and for builders.”59
At the core of my research is accepting the challenge presented by Latour and
Yaneva and tackling it on an empirical level so as to make visible the multitude of forces
affecting the Paimio Sanatorium project.
According to Finnish Professor Petri Ylikoski, there are three salient themes that
run through Latour’s later work. Firstly, Latour pays attention to the material aspects of
scientific enquiry and aims to incorporate the fields of objects and non-human actors
in his social research. His second major theme is the locality of knowledge and man-
agement. Scientific knowledge is valid only in the special conditions of a laboratory and
when analysing any given piece of knowledge, it is essential to know where, how and by
whom it was produced. Thirdly, Latour has no intention of sharing the understanding
of scientific activity held by his object of study and uses his own set of concepts instead
of those of the latter, as in his view, the understanding held by the object of study is
something to be explained, not an explanatory resource.60
Rather than “actors”, the actor-network theory, developed by Latour and his col-
leagues, talks about actants that are heterogeneous in scope. Actants have been attributed
the ability to act. This attribution can be the result of a proposition, a technical arte-
fact or another actant through trials of strength. An actant is ultimately defined by its
strength. Actants can be companies, civic movements or individuals. They form hetero-
geneous networks, in other words, they involve actants from many different ontological
categories, and the strength of the collective thus formed depends on the strength of the
hybrid that these actants have managed to constitute.61 Action is something that takes
place between people and things. Latour urges the researcher to observe the details
in view and map out the chain of events. His example directs our attention to what
networks reflect of themselves to the outside world.62 The aim in the present work
was to adhere to this type of anthropological approach of the construction process of
Paimio Sanatorium and focus on the specific chains of events at the construction stage
that somehow proved critical and divided the opinions of the relevant stakeholders.
Using Latour’s set of concepts, the research looked into the hybrids of architecture,
both material and social at once. From Aalto’s perspective, the aspects of ideological
importance were, among others, windows, the reinforced concrete frame, the patient
rooms and the district systems. For the client, in contrast, economy and the standard
of care were major considerations. The analysis has been limited to the design and
construction phases, and excluded the analysis of the social impact of the completed
building, as this would have involved a completely different network of actants. From
the perspective of architectural history, my research design is conventional, as it is
59 Latour and Yaneva 2008, p. 88.

60 Ylikoski refers to works following the seminal 1979 work Laboratory Life, which Latour co-wrote with Steve Wool-
gar. Ylikoski 2000, pp. 297–298.
61 Latour 1988, p. 252; Latour 1999, pp. 303–304; Y likoski 2000, p. 300.
62 Lehtonen 2000, p. 291.
29
limited to the birth of the building with an emphasis on the architect’s own intentions.
The central role of the architect is explained through the theoretical framework of work
research. Latour is interested in technological and scientific systems, the development
of which depends on innovation. In Latour’s terms, the inventor or scientist is the
innovator of a project. When a building is analysed as a technological system, the role
of the innovator falls on the architect. In the light of the present study, allocating the
innovator’s role to the architect seems natural and self-evident, although this might
not be the case for other projects at other times. However, Latour does not see the
innovator as a self-sufficient genius and he emphasises the importance of the collective.
Although the innovator of the network, who initiates the formation of the cluster, is in
a key position, success is primarily determined by the quality and quantity of the tools
of cognition rather than, for example, the superior mental abilities of the innovator.63
However, what is original about this research is indeed the analysis between
different actors and the trials the architect underwent in the course of the projects,
in both the social and material context. The actor-network theory is interested
in the processes within which actants mutually build and modify their respective
operative situations and objectives. The mobilisation and persuasion of actants and
the translation of their motives so that their inclusion in the network becomes a
necessity is essential, according to the actor-network theory. Latour uses the term
translation for the conversion of other actants’ interests.64
Another methodological principle of the actor-network theory is the principle of
generalised symmetry, which attributes equal footing to both human and non-human
actants, assigning the same explanatory weight to both. Latour aimed to erase the dis-
tinction between the subject and the object, or the society and the nature. He sees the
object as an active entity participating in a construct as well as with a serious pursuit to
investigate the significance of objects in human activity. The effect is not one-directional.65
Finnish sociologist Reijo Miettinen has identified three problems in applying the
principle of generalised symmetry in innovation studies. Firstly, limiting a network of
entities to serve empirical analysis is difficult. Secondly, Miettinen argues, the theory
relies on a one-dimensional view of human activity.66 Latour, however, treats his inno-
vator as a collective and not as a historical personage.67 Thirdly, Latour’s assumption of
each actant’s ability to speak has also been considered problematic.68
Notwithstanding the criticism presented by Miettinen and other scholars,
Latour’s theory has been considered a viable point of departure in this work. By
applying Latour’s approach, Aalto has been given a voice, a chance to “speak for
himself ” about where his interests lay in the design task of Paimio Sanatorium, which
63 Latour 1988; Ylikoski 2000, p. 303.

64 See e.g. Latour 1999 [1987], Chapter 3; Ylikoski 2000, p. 303.
65 Latour and Yaneva 2008, pp. 82–83 and 88.
66 Miettinen 1998, pp. 30–31.
67 Ylikoski 2000, p. 298.
68 Miettinen 1998, p. 31; Lehtonen 2000, p. 292.
30
has informed the choice in the angle of approach. Furthermore, understanding the
master of design as a collective emphasised the nature of design and building as a
collaborative process. Latour’s theory also emphasises the locality of processes, which
is highly relevant in architecture. The design solutions were shaped in the course of
the project, as the ideas of the architect underwent trials. The impact of the collective
on the architectural solution was particularly interesting in the case of a building that
holds a canonised status. When discussing Aalto’s buildings, we often fail to either
see or understand the input of other designers. This is the very aspect into which the
anthropological approach provided useful insight. By following the research methods
suggested by Latour it was possible to make the architectural hybrid “speak”. The rec-
iprocity between the social and the inanimate becomes apparent in, for example, the
aesthetically inspired use of material, low production costs or the qualities attributed
by the material to the hybrid of which it is part, by way of fire-resistance or heat-
insulation qualities. The scientific investigation of the architect’s work included com-
munication with other designers, the client, the builder and product manufacturers
during the process of design and construction, in addition to the actual design work.
The American architect and sociologist Dana Cuff has referred to the architectural
praxis, as described in the present research, as the social dimension of architecture.
While she does not emphasise material action to the same degree as Latour, her work
offers a good description of the social challenges embedded in architectural praxis.69
Latour’s observations on descriptions of innovation and the intertwining of forces
as events that do not lend themselves to generalised concepts supports the approach of
this study to focus on one project only. Paimio Sanatorium project was not compared
with any other project since, no other building projects has been studied with similar
methodology and level of detail. This would render any such comparison impossible.
Similarly, comparing the findings of the present study regarding the architectural
hybrid of Paimio Sanatorium to his later writings on technology would be equally
futile, as they represent his later thinking.
As a general aim, this study attempted to link architectural research with recent
theories of the history of technology and, to open up a softer, non-deterministic
perspective on the relationship between architecture and technology.
69 Cuff’s book Architecture: The Story of Practice concerns architectural offices in 1980s United States. She observed
their operations through anthropological and ethnographic methods. See Cuff 1991.
31
1.3 THE RESEARCH CONTEXT
T
his section discusses the various perspectives from which the technological chal-
lenge in the inter-war years has been approached in the architectural research
of the past few decades. The material analysed has expanded the epistemic base
of this thesis, as well as helped to position its approach in relation to earlier research.
The technological challenge of the early 1900s has been understood in architectural
research as a part of larger social modernisation, in other words, social development
which was marked by technological advancement, industrialisation, urbanisation,
the growth of population, the greater importance of administration, the mass media,
democratisation and the expanding, capitalist global market.70 In agreement with con-
cepts defined by Hilde Heynen, in this particular study Modernism in architecture was
used to refer to the manner in which architects applied their theoretical and artistic
ideas about modernisation in order to produce architecture that would help people face
up to the social changes in their living environment.71
Many researchers hold vital the impact of rationalistic working methods, and more
specifically, that of Taylorism and Fordism, on the theory of Modernism. Europeans
admired the efficient industrial production methods of the United States, which were
based on rationalisation and the utilisation of standards and created wealth. The car
and the airplane were symbols of advanced production methods that could also lend
themselves to construction and architecture. With the rationalisation of work architects
became interested in developing industrial standards.72
Europe witnessed a wave of industrialisation and urbanisation in the early 20th cen-
tury. The First World War was followed by a desperate housing shortage. Social housing
and public-sector building were acutely needed particular in post-World War I Germa-
ny.73 Improving the quality of life for the masses became a central goal for architecture,
shifting the focus from the status-driven grandeur serving a much broader social class.
Ernst May (1886–1970), Le Corbusier and Walter Gropius, among others, found it
necessary to make use of the rationalised industrial production methods in solving the
problem of workers’ housing. Many architects also believed that the problems created
by urbanisation could be resolved by means of architecture alone. Urban planning
became a topic du jour in the discourse space of architecture as early as the early 1900s
70 Modernisation refers to the process of social development, the main features of which are technological advanc-
es and industrialisation, urbanisation and population explosion, the rise of bureaucracy and increasingly powerful
national states, an enormous expansion of mass communication systems, democratisation, and an expanding
(capitalist) world market. Heynen 2001, p. 10.
71 Heynen’s definition of modernity, modernisation and Modernism is based on Marshall Berman’s work All That Is
Solid Melts Into Air: The Experience of Modernity. Heynen 2001, pp. 12–14; Berman 1988 [1982], p. 15.
72 Standard project drawings, the use of which became more common particularly in the 19th century, can also be
treated as standards for building types.
73 Miller Lane 1985 [1968], pp. 87–124; Georgiadis 1993, p. 81; Mohr 2011, pp. 51–68.
32
and particularly so in the sphere of the CIAM movement.74 Division between the
town and the country was associated with the enlightenment philosophy. On the one
hand, the moral and aesthetic philosophy of the enlightenment directed the attention
towards nature, while on the other hand, it led towards the rationalistic organisation of
industrial production. This dualism, about which Aalto also wrote, has been seen as the
substratum for 20th century design75.
In Henry Ford’s theory, the workers were also to benefit from the rationalisation of
work. Affording more attention to working conditions would be rewarded in increased
productivity and higher wages. Industrialisation brought in its wake the mass markets,
as it made consumer commodities available to larger sections of population than ever
before. Mass media and mass production developed hand in hand. The role of the press,
film and radio was becoming central, as they represented new technologies and moder-
nity. Women entered the world of work, started to earn their own income and the power
balance within the family changed as women became more emancipated. The change in
social structures also led to the development of new spatial formats, for example, in hous-
ing architecture, with collective houses as good examples. Although in reality, collective
houses were never built to a major degree in Sweden and there were even fewer built
in Finland, they had a distinct bearing on the shift in the role of housing design. Social
change also reflected on the paradigm shift in hospital building in the 1920s.76
Industrialisation led to occupational differentiation and the importance of pro-
fessional expertise grew. Construction firms required a wider range of competences
and the design process became more collective. Engineers and technicians of different
disciplines contributed their scientific knowledge and practical skills. The introduction
of reinforced concrete structures required the ability to conduct structural calculations,
while the feasibility of the plumbing, sewage, heating, ventilation and electrical installa-
tions needed to be verified at the design stage. In Finland, the architect would be head-
ing the public-sector construction project at the time, collaborating with an increasing
number of specialists and experts. The role of the architect was, however, changing.
Private consultancies were a fairly new phenomenon,77 there was competition between
occupational groups. Also the first women entered the design profession.
74 In his article in issue 5/1935 of Neue Zürcher Zeitung of June 24, 1935, Sigfried Giedion divided the Neues Bauen
movement into four stages: typical of the first stage were the use of new materials, in particular, reinforced
concrete; the second stage centred on the aesthetic and spatial concept inspired by Cubism; the third stage
concentrated on the question of social housing with little concern for the aesthetics; and the fourth stage focused
on urban and community planning. Georgiadis 1993, p. 73; For the situation in Sweden, see Eriksson 2001 and
Hall 2009.
75 Porphyrios 1982, p. 83.
76 The Canadian architectural historian Annemarie Adams has compared the pavilion-style hospital typical of the pe-
riod before World War I to multi-storey block hospitals, which gained ground in the inter-war period. Her primary
research interests were hospitals in the United States and Canada. The change was brought about not only by
the increase in the number of storeys and the changing floor plan but also by the changing objective of medical
treatment, which moved away from preventive care to curing diseases, and hospitals were built with private
rooms instead of large wards to serve paying customers. Adams 2008, pp. xvii–xviii.
77 See e.g. Viljo 1985, pp. 9–13.
33
Industrial production methods, new materials and rationalistic design methods
placed architects in a situation where problems had to be resolved on the level of both
form and aesthetics. Art-historical research into architecture emphasises the new con-
cept of space that emerged in the inter-war period as well as the symbolic values it
embodied and how different trends gained ground. Another aspect of interest for art his-
torians has been to consider how new building materials and techniques were reflected
in the architectural form and spatial formats, and in the evolution of new building types.
However, art historical inquiry has not paid similar attention to electrical, plumbing,
sewage, ventilation and heating systems, which developed in leaps and bounds in the
early 1900s, as part of the tectonic solution as it has paid to materials and structure.78
The American scholar Kenneth Frampton has discussed why the concept of space has
been given such priority over both constructional and structural modes, which are the
means by which spaces are created. As Frampton has pointed out, a building comes
into existence through a constant interplay of three factors: the topos, the typos and the
tectonic. Since the tectonic is not necessarily bound by any particular style, together with
the topos and typos, it serves the current tendency of architecture to legitimate itself
based on some other discourse.79 Here, Frampton referred to a situation in the 1990s.
Architectural research into the significance of rationalistic management systems in
inter-war Modernism, which will be discussed in more detail in the next section, would
indicate that even then architecture was, in fact, legitimising itself through another
discourse. Frampton did not include any in-depth discussion in his text on the role
that highly-developed technological systems, such as ventilation, played as objects that
were assigned architectural meaning. Rather, he concentrated in a more conventional
vein on the meaning of structure and material as part of architectural expression. Anne
Beim, a Danish scholar who has studied tectonics in architecture, wanted to expand the
scope of architectural meaning assignment. She argued that construction technology
and practices contribute to the process of architectural meaning assignment if they are
treated in a conscious manner.80 Beim pointed out that construction technology and
practices cannot be neutral, and architecture is never value-free.81
78 In the Finnish context, inter-war Modernism has been studied from the perspective of aesthetics, spatial concep-
tion and symbolism by, among others, Raija-Liisa Heinonen in her study Funktionalismin läpimurto Suomessa (The
Breakthrough of Functionalism in Finland) and Teppo Jokinen in his doctoral dissertation Erkki Huttunen liikelai
tosten ja yhteisöjen arkkitehtinä 1928–1939 (Architect Erkki Huttunen as a Designer of Business and Community
Buildings 1928–1939). See Heinonen 1986 and Jokinen 1992.
79 Frampton 1996 [1995], p. 2.
80 Beim 2004, p. 52.
81 Beim 2004, p. 168. See particularly the definition of ethics, which is a quote of “Postscript” in VIA 10/1990.
34
1 . 3 .1 R A T I O N A L M A N A G E M E N T M E T H O D S
The significance of rational management methods, more specifically the methods

developed by Winslow Frederick Taylor82 and Henry Ford83 in the United States
between 1895 and 1915, in the research into the history of architecture have rarely
been approached in any systematic manner, although the impact of their “scientific”
management theories on architecture is widely acknowledged.
The English architectural historian Adrian Forty has drawn attention to five aspects
of Taylorism. Firstly, it was assumed that the Taylor’s theories could serve to narrow
down the chasm between the capitalist and the working classes. Secondly, Taylorism
had scientific status; it was considered an objective approach. Thirdly, the advocates
of Taylorism represented a new professional group, the middle-class technocrats who
applied rationalist thinking to gain greater efficiency. Fourthly, Taylorist practice robbed
the traditional craftsmen of the power to organise the manufacturing process for them-
selves. Fifthly, Taylorism was not fully grasped as a complete theory but was instead
known for isolated slogans, such as “The one best way”, and its symbols, including the
time chart, stop watch, and certain pieces of equipment such as the office desk.84 Henry
Ford applied his consumer-centred ideas boldly in different fields of life, for example,
hospital construction and the development of the hospital organisations.85 However
rationalist management methods were first applied in factories, which have subsequently
been the primary points of interest in the study of the impact of rationalist manage-
ment methods on architecture.86 A study by the Swedish architect Lisa Brunnström,
Den rationella fabriken (The Rational Factory) from 1990, is a pioneering work on the
topic in the Nordic context. Brunnström’s study discusses the rationalisation of the
82 The American Frederick W. Taylor (1856–1915) was a pioneer of rationalised work methods. His best known work
is The Principles of Scientific Management, from 1911, which was soon translated into Swedish by a Finn, Johan
Sederholm. Taylor emphasised the application of scientific method both in the recruitment and training of new
workers and in the work itself. A new job title was introduced to the industry, that of the production planner.
Taylor developed his ideas into twelve tenets that would promote efficiency, minimisation, differentiation of tasks,
standardisation, systematisation, control, supervision and discipline. Taylor’s theses were to do with management,
organisation and performance but not the production building as such. Taylor’s work soon gained international
acclaim and his theories were adopted after the First World War in the automotive industry in France as well as in
Russia. The Germans had already embraced Tayloristic principles prior to that with the publication of the German
edition of the book in 1913 and developed their own methods on the basis of it. In Sweden, the employer organi-
sation Sveriges Industriförbund was a keen proponent of Taylor’s system. Brunnström 1990, pp. 55–57.
83 Henry Ford (1863–1947) developed the idea of mass production. His approach was less programmatic than that
of Taylor. His goal was to produce cars at a low cost so that his employees could afford to buy them. The most
decisive invention was the conveyor belt. Ford applied Taylor’s theories to a degree. According to Ford, the
purpose of industry was to serve the community and not to manufacture at a low cost and sell for a high price.
He was calling for a situation where the company, its employees and the consumer would all be winners. Ford’s
proposed method was a departure from Taylor’s theory. Ford maintained that bureaucracy needed to be reduced
to a minimum. He also saw the role of the physical buildings as significant in rational production. Brunnström 1990,
pp. 54–55; See also Nye 2013.
84 Forty 1986, p. 74.
85 Ford and Crowther [1922], pp. 214–219.; Henttonen 2009, pp. 221–224.
86 The factory buildings designed by architect Albert Kahn for the Ford Corporation have been studied by Frederico
Bucci, while Ingrid Osterman has investigated early 20th century factory buildings in Germany and the Nether-
lands specifically within the context of rationalisation. Lisa Brunnström studied Swedish factory buildings of the
same period. See Bucci 1999 and 2002, Osterman 2006 and Brunnström 1990.
35
factory building in Sweden during the period 1900–1930. She looks at the factory as
a complete entity and extends her enquiry beyond the external building. Using three
planning organisations87 as examples, she infers how the rationalist principles were
applied and how the architectural expression in factory buildings evolved. According
to Brunnström, the roots of Functionalism were in rationalist dogma and Taylorism
employed the essential theoretical design principles of Modernism – programme study,
function separation, standardisation and minimisation – 20 years prior to the Stockholm
Exhibition.88 She also emphasises the importance of Behren’s designs created for AEG
as models and the role of Bauhaus as the conveyor of rationalist principles to the Swed-
ish body of architects. The Swedish federation of consumer co-operatives, Kooperativa
Förbundet (KF), in particular, adopted the teachings of Bauhaus on the importance of
design in industrial production and the idea that it was part of the architect’s remit to
design the general corporate image for manufacturers.89 Brunnström’s other study Det
svenska folkhemsbygget. Om Kooperativa Förbundets arkitektkontor (Building the Swedish
Welfare State. Regarding the Swedish Co-operative Union and Wholesales Societies’
Architectural Office) details the history and introduces the projects of the largest design
organisation in the Nordic countries.90 These influences were introduced through Sweden
to Finland, where the activities of the KF co-operative had attracted widespread interest.91
Finnish art historian Maarit Henttonen researched the impact of rationalist man-
agement methods on the specialist hospitals in Finland in the inter-war period through
case studies on three women’s and children’s health-care institutions as architectural,
medical and social design tasks.92 She was interested, among other things, in how
efficiency ideals and the scientific and systematic organisation of work were incorpo-
rated into hospital construction and the gender system.93 Henttonen approached the
hospital building as a synthesis arising from the cross pressures of multiple discourses.
In her opinion, the proposed option for the central design method to be applied in
hospital architecture was the engineer-centred design method, in which problems were
accurately defined and subsequently resolved. She maintained that hospital architects
87 Brunnström used three design institutes as examples of the application of the new design methods: Industribyrå,
ASEA and Kooperativa Förbundet. Brunnström 1990.
88 Brunnström 1990, pp. 216–217.
89 The building design projects included buildings from factories, offices, shops, restaurants and schools to leisure
centres. KF also designed exhibitions, furniture, light fittings, packaging and advertising. Brunnström 2004.
90 Established in 1924, the architectural practice of KF grew into the largest practice in the Nordic countries by 1930.
Brunnström’s interpretation was based on several primary sources. Brunnström 2004, p. 43.
91 Similar Finnish co-operative design organisations, such as those within SOK (Finnish Cooperative Wholesale
Society) and KK (Central Union of Consumer Cooperatives), kept a close eye on the operations and production of
KF. Jokinen 1992, p. 25 and pp. 28–29; Niskanen 2005, p. 54.
92 She has referred to the idea developed by the French sociologist Michel Foucault of power as a network encom-
passing social life, with power relations crisscrossing each other and sometimes pulling in completely opposite
directions. Therefore, it would follow that, rather than focus on the discourses of the architect alone, it was essen-
tial to analyse those of other actors involved in the process and the interrelations of these discourses. Henttonen
2009, pp. 319–320.
93 Henttonen 2009, p. 53.
36
clearly adopted this new systematic approach in their work.94 According to Henttonen,
another imprint that Taylorism and Fordism left on hospital design was the new focus
on the work processes taking place in the building. As a result, the number of treatment
rooms was increased and their importance was brought to the fore. Henttonen argued
that rationalisation had a strong impact on hospital building in the early 1900s, and it
gave rise to a new, centralised idea of space and hospital type, the block hospital. The
older pavilion-hospital did not, however, disappear altogether, instead it was incorpo-
rated into the new type.95
Despite the fact that Henttonen’s study discussed the specialist hospital of the
same period as the present dissertation, the research questions were markedly different.
Henttonen’s point of departure was a certain building type, while the present study was
focused on the relationship between architecture and technology within one project.
Her research context was hospital buildings, while the context for the present study
was technology in construction. Henttonen studied social networks and discourse
taking place within them, while in this study material entities were included alongside
social relations in the analysis of networks. Henttonen’s findings regarding women’s
and c hildren’shospitals were not all directly applicable to a specialist hospital of a dif-
ferent kind, such as a sanatorium, because the patients and forms of therapies were
significantly different. The treatment in a pulmonary tuberculosis sanatorium was more
passive and was based primarily on rest, diet and physical exercise.96
Many other monographs on Finnish architecture of this period have also touched
upon the impact of rationalist management methods on architecture, but in these works
rationalisation has not been put forward per se as a determining factor in the research
problem as it was for Henttonen.97 For example, Finnish art historian Anne Mäkinen
has highlighted in her study Suomen valkoinen sotilasarkkitehtuuri 1926–1939 (White
Military Architecture in Finland, 1926–1939) both the older, more conventional,
and the new, rationalist design principles adopted in the construction of the defence
94 Henttonen has paid attention to the different, sometimes conflicting and contradictory pursuits of the doctors,
state institutions or private owners and the architect. She found that drawing a clear boundary between the
architect and doctor was difficult in hospital design. Doctors were the ones to draw up the room programme and
they had their own ideas of a rationally organised workspace. In Henttonen’s interpretation, translating ideas into
spaces and designing the elevations was left to the architect. Henttonen 2009, p. 321.
95 Henttonen 2009, pp. 321–322.
96 See e.g. Forsius 2002a and 2002b.
97 For example, Henrik Wager discussed the increased efficiency of work in his doctoral dissertation on Bertel
Liljeqvist’s production facilities. Wager 2009; Aino Niskanen’s analysis built on modernity as architect Väinö
Vähäkallio’s personal project and on the influences of modernisation on the remit and networks of the architect.
In Niskanen’s study, rationalist principles were only one factor among many. Niskanen 2005.
37
administration buildings in the 1930s.98 Mäkinen has also made numerous observations
on the application of rationalist design principles in the different building projects of
the defence forces, such as hospitals,99 but she did not draw any direct parallels between
the tenets of Taylorism and the building designs of the defence administration.100
Interestingly, the Canadian architectural historian Annemarie Adams has adopted
a completely opposing approach to the influence of medicine on inter-war hospital
architecture in the United States and Canada, asking whether hospital design acted as
the catalyst for medical advances and not the other way around.101 She argued that the
hospitals of the inter-war period were not only therapeutic institutions but also agents
and producers of medical practices on general and social levels, rather than merely on
a symbolic level. Adams saw architecture and medicine as reciprocating systems that
jointly produced the 20th century hospital type.102 Architects drew influences from other
building types and adapted them to hospitals, such as industrial buildings and hotels.103
The 1920s hospitals in North America were modern on the inside, but conservative on
the outside: technological fetishism coupled with social conservatism. Fire safety of
materials, noise abatement and reinventing the patient room were typical considera-
tions in the design of these buildings. According to Adams, American architects were
sceptical towards standards, as they feared they would make the architect redundant. For
example, according to the well-known American hospital architect Edward Fletcher
Stevens (1860–1946)104, hospital equipment could well be standardised but not the
floor plan, as each hospital required a unique solution. Stevens set great store by a flex-
ible use of space in hospitals. He understood flexibility as an opportunity to completely
alter the use of a building. Adams also made several observations on the increasing use
98 Anne Mäkinen discussed the design principles applied in the barracks as described by Niilo Niemi, an archi-
tect from the Ministry of Defence Building Department, in his articles of 1934 and 1935. The objectives in the
barrack design included, among other things, using uniform measurements and standardised fixtures in the
interior. Niemi’s descriptions reveal, for example, that in the 1930s barracks type each floor accommodated
one company, divided into rooms sleeping 18 men. The designated space per person was four square metres
or thirteen square metres, as stipulated in the 1919 Act on military quarters. Niemi discussed in his instructions
different floor plan options for the barracks (side corridor, partial side corridor, centre corridor with extensions
opening on the window wall, central corridor) from the perspective of health and economic considerations.
The side corridor was the best solution on health grounds while the central corridor was the most economical
alternative. The function of the corridor was to stage line-up and formation exercises during bad weather and
as a common space. Therefore the spaces needed to be bright, airy, spacious and easy to air. Mäkinen also
paid attention to how similar the floor plan types were compared to other institutional buildings, such as those
used in sanatoria. Mäkinen 2000, pp. 88–89.
99 At the Russarö barracks, designed by architect Ragnar Ypyä and completed in 1931, different functions were sep-
arated from each other both spatially and with regard to massing. In the book Suomen armeija (The Finnish Army)
the defence forces boasted about the comfort, tidiness and cleanliness in the barracks as well as their modern
kitchen; in the Helsinki Motor Transport Company building by Martta Martikainen-Ypyä the efficient straightfor-
ward floorplan was based on a rational idea of the typical pathways of motor vehicles and human beings. Sepa-
ration of functions was typical in the hospital design of the 1930s. Mäkinen 2000, pp. 93–112.
100 Mäkinen mentioned Taylorism and Fordism only briefly in conjunction of one building, Martta Martikanen-Ypyä’s
Helsinki Motor Transport Company building. Mäkinen 2000, p. 98.
101 Adams 2008, p. xvii.
102 Adams 2008, p. xx.
103 Adams 2008, pp. xx–xxi.
104 Specialist in hospital design, Stevens was also a prolific writer. His best-known work is The American Hospital of
the Twentieth Century, which was first published in 1918 and as a revised edition in 1928. He ran the architectural
firm Stevens & Lee with architect Frederick Clare Lee, specialising in hospital architecture, from 1912 until 1933.
Adams 2008, pp. 90–108.
38
of non-medical technology, such as central clock systems, paging systems and modern
machinery, in hospitals. Adams also highlighted an interesting contradiction: while the
aim was to build flexible hospitals, the certain aesthetic hygiene that informed the
design work, extending to cover the tiniest of details, worked exactly to the opposite
end.105 This notion questioned the role of hospital architecture.
Adrian Forty studied the application of Taylorism in furniture design. In his view,
design is a mediator of social relations between people, and the discourse on these rela-
tions is an essential part of design and understanding a design object. His example, the
rethinking of the office desk around 1900s in the United States, is an illustrative case in
point. Although Taylorists reformed the desk, their interest lay ultimately in designing
tools rather than furnishings.106 The principle of division of labour, which was elemen-
tal to Taylorism, led to the differentiation of tasks and consequently to differentiated
furniture.107 The transformation of the office desk was a result of the reorganisation of
work and the changed relationship between employees and ranks. The new desk became
a driver and symbol of a new order.108 Forty criticised understanding material culture
singularly from the perspective of the aesthetics or idealised concepts.109 Both Forty
and Adams have concluded that the relationship between architecture, design and the
material world is complex, which is also the approach adhered to in this study.
Standardisation was one of the key tenets of Taylorism and Fordism. Finnish art his-
torian Elina Standertskjöld’s articles “Alvar Aalto and Standardisation” and “Alvar Aalto’s
Standard Drawings” discuss the ideological background of Aalto’s standard drawings
between 1929 and 1932, most of which are related to the Turun Sanomat Newspaper
Building, the Minimum Apartment Exhibition in Helsinki and the Paimio Sanatorium.
According to Standertskjöld, Aalto’s views on standardisation were fully in line with those
voiced by the leading modernists at the same time, in particular Le Corbusierand Pierre
Jeanneret.110 Aalto drew up a vast array of standard drawings for different building parts111
and aimed to use them as a way of introducing his furniture into industrial production.
Furniture design was, therefore, a major object of Standertskjöld’s analysis.112 She gave
valuable insight into understanding Aalto’s professional strategies. One of Aalto’s objec-
tives was to introduce his tubular steel frame furniture into industrial production as early
as in 1930.113 While Standertskjöld’s study described Aalto’s standard designs, it did not
105 Adams 2008, pp. 120–121.

106 For scientific management experts, the conventional desk epitomised inefficiency. When archiving and writing
were separated into two different tasks, as based on Taylorist analysis, a clerk no longer needed numerous pi-
geon-holes in the desk. Desks were transformed into clean surfaces with drawers for keeping writing equipment.
The employees were now in the manager’s unobstructed supervision and view. Forty 1986, pp. 76–77.
107 Forty 1986, pp. 79–80.
108 Forty 1986, p. 81.
109 Forty 1986, p. 81.
110 Standertskjöld 1992a, p. 85.
111 Aalto’s standards included those for doors, windows, light fittings, chairs, beds, sofas, tables, kitchen fittings,
clothes racks, shelves, wardrobes and fixtures. Standertskjöld 1992b, pp. 89–111.
112 Aalto’s furniture and the professional associations related to their design have been studied by, among others,
Pekka Suhonen in Finland and Arthur Rüegg in Switzerland. See Suhonen 1985 and Rüegg 1998.
113 Standertskjöld 1992b, p. 99.
39
reveal whether the standard parts were eventually produced on an industrial basis and, if
so, in which format. Therefore, I find that a closer investigation of Paimio Sanatorium’s
realisation will bring added insight into this ideologically essential theme, the role of the
standards as part of the design and its execution.
My earlier research discussed Alvar Aalto’s patents.114 Aalto began to file for patents
for his inventions from the 1930s onwards. Like many other designers, Aalto aimed
to protect his immaterial rights and economic interests through patents. Even if only
a small number of European designers of the 1920s and 1930s were successful in pro-
tecting their innovation from financial exploitation,115 Aalto was one of these few. He
worked on his first patent applications in the early 1930s in collaboration with the
furniture manufacturer Otto Korhonen (1883–1935), who had a wealth of experience
in this field and was knowledgeable about the critical questions in his industry and
the patent procedures.116 Otto Korhonen knew from experience how to instruct Aalto
specifically on patent methods to ensure that the patent would secure as extensive pro-
tection for Aalto’s innovation as possible. The collaboration was based on the two men’s
mutual interests. Aalto wanted to develop serial manufacturing methods and make
financial gains as a furniture designer. Korhonen, in turn, saw an interesting business
opportunity in the collaboration, and he was prepared to dispense his knowledge for
the purpose.117
Scientific management methods have been seen in architectural discourse as
a manifestation of Americanisation, in other words, changing European and other
cultures to follow American and Canadian models. Many European architects
were, for example, inspired by North-American building types, such as skyscrapers,
industrial buildings and hotels.118
Architectural historian Mary McLeod from the United States studied Le Corbus-
ier’s views on modern industrial production methods as drivers of social change. In the
1920s, Le Corbusier, as well as many of his German colleagues, regarded Taylorism and
the serial production method as tools for social change. Industrial efficiency made it
possible to approach architecture as a social medium. Le Corbusier believed that only
modern production could facilitate the production of architecture at a cost that would
be affordable to all.119 Le Corbusier’s Vers Une Architecture proclaimed that changes
in building design and production would bring such social advances that a revolution
could thus be avoided.120 According to McLeod, Le Corbusier’s future-oriented urban
plans were, however, socially segregated. A new class division predicted power based
114 “Innovative Aalto” was an exhibition held at the Finnish Patent and Registration Office and based on the author’s
then unpublished manuscript and research material that was compiled on Aalto’s patents. The exhibition was
open from the end of 2002 until March 2003 at the Finnish Patent and Registration Office premises. Innovative
Aalto exhibition publication on the Finnish Patent and Registration Office website. See Nikkanen et al. eds. 2002.
115 Benton 1979, p. 13; Heikinheimo 2004, p. 16.
116 Heikinheimo 2004, pp. 10–11.
118 See e.g. Cohen 1995.
119 McLeod 1983, pp. 135–136.
120 Le Corbusier 1986 [1923]; See e.g. Forty 1986, p. 80, and Banham 1999 [1960], pp. 220–246.
40
on capacity and expertise: engineers, captains of industry, bankers and artists would
live in the centre of the city, while other actors were housed on the periphery of the
town. McLeod pointed out that in Taylorism it was the pursuit of efficiency rather than
equality that paved the way for social reform.121
Taylorism and Fordism resonated widely in the architectural circuit in Germany.
Rationalist management methods were adopted in German architecture and construction
before they gained a foothold in the Nordic countries.122 In 1925, Ernst May, the director
of Frankfurt am Main’s Municipal Building Department, assembled a multi-professional
team of architects, sociologists, engineers and manufacturers to realise May’s massive
social housing programme. May aimed to industrialise the building process by using
pre-fabricated building parts, and extensive studies were carried out on his initiative to
investigate how residential houses were used. As a result of this strategy, innovations such
as the Frankfurter Küche (the Frankfurt Kitchen)123 were conceived, with which Aalto was
able to familiarise himself when attending the CIAM conference in October 1929. Gro-
pius’ experimental housing projects during and after his Bauhaus period were also mostly
inspired by Fordism. He wanted to develop housing design so that dwellings could be
produced with light-weight parts and at a low cost, just like in the automotive industry.124
Gropius also made building site organisation schemes.125 The generation of architects
who were interested in the rational use of buildings could not avoid applying Taylorist
ideas, which promised savings in both space and time. Adopting the new method led to
the development of new spatial formats. Movement within a space became a central fac-
tor in design. Architects, who designed and organised action, acquired new kinds of tools
for designing production.126 While Le Corbusier’s dedication to scientific management
methods was reflected in a wide circle of urban planners, architects and urban planners
only adopted the new thinking for the exclusive purpose of creating efficient floor plans
and ignored the aspect of mass production.127
Elina Standertskjöld’s book The Dream of the New World contributed to the debate on
Americanisation in the Nordic countries and, in particular, Finland of the early 1900s.
Taylor’s two works were translated into Finnish as early as the 1910s128 and Henry
121 McLeod 1983, pp. 138–139.

122 See Pehnt 2011, pp. 99–109.
123 The model was mainly created by Grete Schütte-Lihotzky, who applied Lillian Gilbrecht’s and Christine Frederick’s
studies in her work. The kitchen was based on ergonomic movement paths and standardised furniture and equip-
ment. Cohen 1995, p. 78.
124 See e.g. Cohen 1995, pp. 78–79.
125 See e.g. Gropius 1976 [1926].
126 Cohen 1995, pp. 78–79.
127 McLeod 1983, p. 137.
128 Suomen Teollisuuslehti (The Finnish Industrial Journal) featured Taylor’s methods for the first time in 1903 and
Rakennustaito (The Finnish Construction Magazine) discussed Frank Gilbreth’s methods in 1909. Between 1913
and 1914 Rakennustaito published a series of articles written by the Finnish J.J. Sederholm entitled “Scien-
tificmanagement – American innovation in the field of management”. A year later, Rakennustaito introduced
Taylor’s Principles of Scientific Management, which had been translated into Finnish by Jalmari Kekkonen. In
1915, another work presenting Taylor’s ideas was Sederholm’s Työn tiede (The Science of Work), which was
also reviewed in Rakennustaito. The work by Theodor Anton Bergen, a Swedish proponent of rationalisation
and a designer of factories, Industribyggnader (Industrial Buildings) gained wide publicity at the 1919 Building
Forum in Helsinki, where it was presented. Standertskjöld 2010, pp. 43–45.
41
Ford’s seminal My Life and Work was translated into Finnish in the late 1920s. The
Finnish historian Karl-Erik Michelsen described the campaign for rationalisation and
standardisation undertaken by Suomen Teollisuuslehti (The Finnish Industrial Journal)
in the early 1930s.129 Nordic architects adopted rationalist influences via Continental,
and more specifically German, architectural discourse, whereas many engineers and
master builders absorbed the ideas directly from the United States.130
1.3.2 MODERN ARCHITECTURE AND MASS MEDIA
Spanish art historian based in the United States Beatriz Colomina’s ground-breaking
study Privacy and Publicity discussed modern architecture as a form of mass media. She
argued that, in the 20th century, the production of architecture shifted from the building
site to the immaterial domain of the media: architectural publications, exhibitions and
journals.131 She went on to maintain that architecture can be modern and become
industrialised only through a particular media relationship.132 For Le Corbusier, media
was not merely a space for disseminating culture, but also an autonomous domain for
producing culture.133 For him the location and the materialisation of the building were
secondary. Architecture was something to be negotiated purely in the domain of ideas.
When architecture is translated into a building, it becomes entangled with different
phenomena and loses its purity. When a completed, three-dimensional building is
discussed in two-dimensional media, such as the press, it re-enters the domain of ideas.
Colomina wrote: “Photography and layout construct another architecture in the space
of the page. Conception, execution, and reproduction are separate, consecutive moments
in a traditional process of creation.”134 The interest in the present study was precisely in
this “contamination” of ideas, and their execution. I saw conceptualisation as something
more than simply a phase prior to the execution; it is a continuum that takes new
directions at the execution stage. Similarly, Colomina described Le Corbusier’s tactic
of creating new associations by juxtaposing image and text. Le Corbusier’s images
did not only illustrate the text, they built new meanings.135 According to Colomina,
Le Corbusier also understood the potential of modern, targeted136 advertising: when
129 The campaign targeted at policy-makers voiced fears about the efficiency demands on human labour and the loss
of jobs, but the problems were seen as transitory. Taylorism and Fordism were described as methods that were
not against workers’ interests and, in fact, created opportunities for the ongoing development of work. Many
sectors of society endorsed these ideas. Increased resources were allocated to teaching rationalisation methods
to engineering students at Helsinki University of Technology, and Suomen Rationalisoimistyön Edistämisyhdistys
(Finnish Association for the Promotion of Rationalisation) was established in 1930 and the construction industry
established a permanent exhibition of building materials. Michelsen 1999, pp. 287–292.
130 Brunnström 1990, p. 202; Standertskjöld 2010, p. 48.
131 Colomina 1998 [1994], pp. 14–15.
132 Ibidem, pp. 14 and 107.
133 Ibidem, p. 104.
134 Colomina 1998 [1994], p. 114; See also von Moos 1983 [1979], p. 299.
135 Colomina 1998 [1994], pp. 119, 148 and 153.
136 Modernity, from the 1920s onwards, has been considered the era of targeted advertising. Colomina referred to
Daniel Pope’s work The Making of Modern Advertisement. Colomina 1998 [1994], p. 190.
42
Le Corbusier sold advertising space in his journal, the readers’ attention was actually
the product he sold to the advertisers. He alone was in charge of creating the advertise-
ments. His other tactic was to present his own works in advertisements. The copy was
coupled with the same imagery as the advertisement. In some cases, the company in
question had been involved in building the project referred to, which clearly supported
the above observation, that the advertisements were targeted towards a certain group.
The target group for L’Esprit Nouveau (The New Spirit) were architects.137
According to Colomina, modern architecture became a commodity, which was
particularly evident in a 1932 exhibition held in New York and the related publica-
tion edited by Philip Johnson and Henry-Russell Hitchcock, The International Style:
Architecture since 1922.138 Colomina wrote: “The curators established a dichotomy
between art and life, artwork and everyday objects, by maintaining a hierarchy between
architecture and building, between ‘the aesthetic’ and ‘the technical or sociological’”.139
The American cultural philosopher and architect Lewis Mumford (1895–1990), who
curated the housing architecture section of the above exhibition, was, however, more
critical than his peers towards the architectural phenomena of his time.140
I argued, that Alvar Aalto also saw mass media as a space for creating architecture,
even during the construction phase. For this dissertation, I have investigated whether
Aalto was as deeply aware of the potential of using the media as Le Corbusier was
and how he utilised communicative tools in his three articles on Paimio Sanatorium
between 1932 and 1933.
1.3.3 ARCHITECTS AND ENGINEERS
Industrialisation also entailed a differentiation in the professions and job descriptions

in the field of construction. When analysing the collaboration between technology
professionals, in this case architects and engineers, it is vital to understand their respec-
tive starting points determined by their professional education. The Swiss architect
Ulrich Pfammater’s study The Making of the Modern Architect and Engineer explored
the history of polytechnic education since the late 1700s.141 According to Pfammater,
industrialisation required that the education system be taken in a more practical and
applied direction.142 The French and German training systems were reflected in those
elsewhere in Europe, and therefore make for a more interesting research topic. Training
in a polytechnic institute was based on gradual learning through problem-solving tasks,
encouraging students to approach building design tasks systematically and methodically.
137 Colomina 1998 [1994], p. 190.

138 Johnson & Hitchcock 1995 [1932]; Colomina 1998 [1994], p. 195.
139 Colomina 1998 [1994], p. 203; Riley 1992, p. 25.
140 See e.g. Riley 1992 passim, p. 32 and pp. 83–84.
141 Pfammater 2000.
142 Pfammater 2000, pp. 8–10.
43
From the mid-19th century onwards, Polytechnic institutions established new options
for specialising in engineering sciences, in which the emphasis remained nonetheless on
general knowledge. The French École des Beaux-Arts represented a different approach,
with its tuition based on models and learning through imitation. Pfammater argues that,
in this sense, Bauhaus also represented the Beaux-Arts method although its subjects
were industrially oriented.143 In Finland, technical schools were based on the German
polytechnic model.144 Furthermore, students and young architects worked as appren-
tices at the beginning of their careers.
The professional atmosphere during Aalto’s student days, between 1919 and 1923
at the Department of Architecture at Helsinki University of Technology, and his early
career was marked by both professional and political145 change. Architectural training
was modernised in the late 1910s.146 Engineer training began in industrial schools in
1912 and it was intended specifically to serve the field of building construction. The
university civil engineers of that time were mainly employed by public-sector agencies
for their land and waterway construction or in industrial construction projects.147 In
the wake of urbanisation, local authorities began to establish positions for technical
professions in the early 1900s.148Architects and engineers also began to run private
practices. Architectural competitions were a major channel for architects to win
assignments. At the beginning of the 20th century, architects aimed to monopolise
artistry as the element that distinguished them from the other technical professions.
Expertise in artistic values helped architects create symbolic power in the domain in
which they operated.149 The first Finnish engineering firms specialised in designing
and building demanding reinforced concrete structures. By the early 1920s, private
engineering firms and construction businesses had become significant employers for
engineers.150 The history of Finnish architectural offices has yet to be written, except
for monographs on architects or architectural teams, which tend to be very design or
personality-oriented.151
143 Pfammater 2000, pp. 302–307.

144 Architectural training began in Finland in 1863 at Helsingin teknillinen reaalikoulu (Helsinki Technical School). In
1872, the name of the school was changed to Polyteknillinen koulu (Polytechnic School), in 1879 to Polyteknillinen
opisto (Polytechnic Institute), and in 1908 to Suomen teknillinen korkeakoulu (University of Technology). Härö
1992, pp. 211–214.
145 Finland became an independent republic in 1917, when it broke away from Russia. Shortly after this, in 1918, a Civil
War broke out, in which Alvar Aalto fought on the side of the Whites. Heporauta 1998, p. 6; Schildt 1981, pp. 93–95.
146 The new challenges included urban planning, heating, ventilation and electrical systems, new industrially pro-
duced materials and structural designs. Härö 1992, p. 216.
147 Rantamo 2009, pp. 41–43.
148 As members of the local administration, architects headed town planning and public building construction opera-
tions. In larger towns architects and engineers were jointly in charge of building inspection while master builders
served as project managers. Rantamo 2009, pp. 84–85.
149 Suominen-Kokkonen 2001, p. 122.
150 Construction firms offer design and contracting services as well as cost calculation and project management
services. The operations of major construction firms focused largely on house and industrial building construction
but also to some degree on land and water construction. Rantamo 2009, pp. 91–98.
151 Other research would greatly benefit from understanding who established architectural offices and how they
acquired their clients, what the projects were like and what their charges were based on. It would appear that it
was typical in Finland from the very early days of architectural training for architects to combine a public-sector
job and private practice.
44
Construction history, which is based on empirical inquiry, is quite young among

research traditions, but has gained a fairly established foothold in some European
countries, including Spain, Italy, Germany and the UK. It is, however, lesser known
in the Nordic countries.152 In Finland, this tradition is represented by a series of
studies on the construction of blocks of flats authored by architects Petri Neuvonen,
Erkki Mäkiö and Maarit Malinen and Panu Kaila’s works on construction meth-
ods.153 Research carried out within this tradition has emphasised the contribution
of other parties besides architects, especially by engineers and constructors, as well
as the material essence of buildings and the skill of building. Therefore it is quite
natural to see the present research as part of the continuum in this tradition, and it
will potentially open up new perspectives into construction, which is simultaneously
a social and material process.
1 . 3 . 4 A A LT O R E S E A R C H
In this section, previous research into Alvar Aalto’s oeuvre and the personality behind
his work is introduced. Furthermore, the significance of these interpretations for the
present work is highlighted. This section will also give an overview of monographs on
Finnish and Swedish architects who were part of Aalto’s sphere of influence.
Finnish art historian Raija-Liisa Heinonen’s licentiate dissertation Funktionalismin
läpimurto Suomessa (The Breakthrough of Functionalism in Finland)154 has long served
as the founding for other readings of the architecture in that period.155 In Heinonen’s
interpretation, Alvar Aalto’s Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building, Paimio Sanato-
rium and Vyborg City Library were such seminal works in Finnish and international
architecture that they in fact epitomise the general development and establishment
of “ Functionalism”.156 Heinonen’s study included a fairly comprehensive analysis of
Aalto’s four hospital designs created for competitions between 1927 and 1931, three
of which were for Finnish tuberculosis sanatoria. The proposal for Paimio Sanatorium
was second in order, and the only one that was ever built.157 Heinonen traced the design
solutions for Paimio Sanatorium back to the international influences and formal motifs
152 Becchi and Carvais 2015, pp. 9–17; Caldenby 2015, pp. 263–271.
153 See e.g. Neuvonen et al. 2002 and Kaila 1997.
154 The Museum of Finnish Architecture published the study, which had been completed in 1976, posthumously in 1986.
155 Scholar David Pearson from the United States collaborated with Heinonen; his study, Alvar Aalto and the Interna
tional Style, was published in 1978.
156 Heinonen 1986, p. 281.
157 The architectural competition for the Central Finland Sanatorium, or Kinkomaa Sanatorium, in Muurame was car-
ried out in 1927; for the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland, or Paimio Sanatorium, in 1928–1929; for
Central Ostrobothnia, or Kälviä Sanatorium in early 1929; and for the Zagreb University Hospital in Yugoslavia in
1930. Heinonen 1986, p. 235.
45
that inspired them.158 She found similarities between the sanatorium and the spatial
structures of Soviet communal houses and passenger ships.159 Heinonen does not even
attempt to explain the formal motifs with interaction between different stakeholders
during the building project, the qualities or availability of materials or the production
method; in her reading, the architect was incorporating ideas he had adopted from
international discourse. She understood form as essentially symbolic and, moreover, her
thorough investigation was limited to theoretical questions in architecture.
The second volume in Göran Schildt’s three-volume biography of Alvar Aalto,
Alvar Aalto. The Decisive Years, concentrates on the architect’s life in the period between
1927 and 1939.160 Schildt and Aalto became friends only later, and the biography
was published some 10 years after Aalto’s death, in the 1980s. Owing to his personal
friendship with Aalto, Schildt had a special advantage as a researcher because he was
privy to the kind of background information on and insight into Aalto’s life that other
researchers could never access. On the other hand, he was in a completely different
position from Giedion, who was an active participant in the phenomenon that was
also his object of research. Schildt had no presence in Aalto’s life during the period in
time under review. I see Schildt as a kind of mouthpiece for Aalto.
According to Schildt, Aalto pursued not only serial housing production but also
modern building types, of which Paimio Sanatorium is one example. Schildt suggests
that Aalto may have reiterated the ideas he saw at Duiker’s Zonnestraal Sanatorium in
resolving the design problems of his own type sanatorium.161 Aalto was undoubtedly
interested in serial production as well as the standardisation of individual building parts
and accessories. Shortly thereafter, he also embarked on developing type houses. The
idea of a type sanatorium may, however, represent Schildt’s or Aalto’s own, later inter-
pretation of the Paimio project.
158 She pointed out that organising spaces into wings was typical in the new architecture of Continental Europe. This
had been the choice solution at Zonnestraal Sanatorium, which according to Heinonen served as a model for both
Aalto’s and Erik Bryggman’s entry for the Paimio Sanatorium competition. The wings at Zonnestraal are in free
angle towards each other, while the overall composition is symmetrical. Heinonen held the view that the spiral
staircase and the smokestack in the service building at Paimio were directly influenced by Zonnestraal. Heinonen
likened the canopy covering the main entrance of Paimio Sanatorium to the small pavilion behind the Palace of
the League of Nations assembly hall, which was raised on pillars. She also found that the tall dining hall at Paimio
Sanatorium is a reference to works jointly designed by Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret. On the other hand, the
workshop wing at the Bauhaus school and Van Nelle tobacco factory housed an uninterrupted window wall span-
ning several floors. Heinonen also saw parallels between Aalto’s design of a window reaching to the floor, which
still existed at the competition stage, and André Lurçat’s tourist hotel in the Mediterranean (1927), and argued that
the plant windows at Paimio Sanatorium were inspired by the refurbished Palmgarten restaurant in Frankfurt am
Main (1929), designed by Ernst May, Martin Elsasser and Werner Hebebrand. Heinonen 1986, pp. 239–241.
159 In a communal house, small flats or rooms were situated alongside long corridors in their own wings, while the
common spaces had been placed in a separate connected block. Of the Soviet examples, Heinonen mentioned
Ivan Nikolaev’s student and communal house and The Narkomfin collective apartment block by Moisei Ginzburg
and Ignaty Milinis. In a passenger ship, the cabins were placed alongside corridors and communal dining rooms
and lounges were similar to those in the sanatorium. In addition, the sundecks at the sanatorium were, in Heinon-
en’s view, reminiscent of open ship decks. She also drew attention to the pragmatic and minimised use of space,
pruning out of all superfluous elements and the optimisation of the tiniest details, principles that were identical to
those applied at Paimio Sanatorium. Heinonen 1986, pp. 242–243.
160 The second volume of the biography was first published in Swedish in 1985 entitled Moderna tider. The Finnish
translation by Raija Mattila was published the same year. The English-language edition, Alvar Aalto. The Decisive
Years, was published in 1986. See Schildt 1985 and 1986.
161 Schildt 1985, pp. 212–215.
46
Alvar Aalto in His Own Words162 is a collection of Aalto’s articles and speeches
edited by Göran Schildt and the only collection of Aalto’s output of this kind. It con-
tains some 15 percent of Aalto’s texts with which Schildt was familiar. The collection
emphasises the architect’s image as a thinking, interactive artist. While the texts are
selected and edited by Schildt, and he has written short introductions to each one
of them, the collection is a key work in the canon of Aalto literature, as he was well-
known for being a talented speaker and a skilful writer. Researchers must, however, be
careful not to confuse Aalto and Schildt with each other.
Aalto’s works have often been interpreted as being humanistic. According to Schildt,
for example, from 1932 onwards, Aalto shifted from a “non-synthetic” architectural
design methods towards looking for models from nature.163 Finnish Professor Juhani
Pallasmaa paid particular attention to Aalto’s concept of the expanded understanding of
rationality that Aalto employed from 1935 onwards.164 The architect’s activities in the
late 1920s and early 1930s have sometimes been erroneously interpreted on the basis of
his later writings without taking into consideration that it was precisely the time when
his architectural theory was undergoing a major shift.165
Some writers have directed their attention to Aalto’s personality.166 This study, rather
than analysing his personal traits, aims to understand his ability to build networks and
to act. In her doctoral dissertation Empathetic Affinities: Alvar Aalto and His Milieus, the
Finnish-American architect Eeva Pelkonen employed the idea of travel as an allegory of
modernity and a means by which Aalto became a modern individual.167 Pelkonen pro-
posed that, for Aalto, modernity meant mobility, travel, reading international periodicals
and befriending with people from abroad. She saw Aalto as a “chameleon-like” person
who adapted to the international circuit and fluid situations, despite his relatively iso-
lated background. In her view, Aalto made for a fascinating example of how an architect
aimed to incorporate intellectual culture into his professional domain.168 Pelkonen also
maintained that Aalto entered the international architectural debate when the Mod-
ernist movement already existed.169 Her interpretation of Aalto is interestingly in line
with Banham’s suggestion of the young apostles of Modernism, who denied symbolism
because they themselves joined the Modernist architectural movement from outside the
pioneering countries at a later stage.170
Pelkonen’s other work, Alvar Aalto, Architecture, Modernity and Geopolitics, continued
in the same thematic vein as her dissertation, although the political aspect of Aalto’s
162 The collection, Näin puhui Alvar Aalto, was published in Finnish in 1997, and the English translation by Timothy
Binham, Alvar Aalto in his Own words, later that same year. See Schildt 1997a and 1997b.
163 Schildt 1997a, p. 86; Schildt 1997b, p. 86.
164 Pallasmaa 1998, p. 31.
165 See e.g. Rattray 2007, p. 70.
166 For example, Kirmo Mikkola has stated that theoretical speculation was an equally foreign concept for Aalto as
dogmatism. Mikkola also argued that, despite his sceptical basic attitude, his world view was vitalistic. Mikkola
1976, pp. 20–21.
167 Ibidem, p. 207.
168 Pelkonen 2003, p. 9.
169 Ibidem, p. 7.
170 Banham 1999 [1960], pp. 320–321.
47
life and career, particularly the geopolitics, was given more prominence.171 Pelkonen
disregarded the impact of the CIAM meetings on Aalto’s thought, although these were
the instances, particularly the meeting in Frankfurt am Main, where he built and main-
tained his professional networks. Another point of importance was that the movement
itself became more politicised during the early 1930s. Pelkonen also afforded little
attention to the role and presence of Aino Marsio-Aalto (1894–1949) as the architect’s
conversation partner and sounding board.
During the inter-war period, the body of architects was predominantly male. Finnish
art historian Renja Suominen-Kokkonen emphasised in her research the role of women
in architecture. In her doctoral dissertation, she described Aino Marsio-Aalto as an
architect who successfully combined her marriage and career.172 She highlighted Aino
Marsio-Aalto’s role as a furniture and interior designer in joint projects with her husband
and in Artek, the furniture and design marketing business, which was established in 1935.
Suominen-Kokkonen’s research has made visible an aspect of Aalto’s work that had pre-
viously remained hidden and emphasised the collective nature of design.
Finnish Professor Pekka Korvenmaa has written about Aalto’s clients, particularly
the forest industry companies, which was the wealthiest sector in Finnish industry
in the 1930s. Korvenmaa drew attention to the differentiation of roles in factory
building design. The remit of the architect was limited to the design of the external
envelope of the building, which was, nonetheless, of great importance and interest to
the client.173 Korvenmaa also examined Aalto’s role as the advocate of Bauhaus Mod-
ernism, which in the 1930s was largely seen as left-wing. Regardless of his radical
ideas, Aalto was able to convince his industry clients of the feasibility of modern for-
mal idiom.174 In his article “A Bridge of Wood: Aalto, American House Production
and Finland”, Korvenmaa explained that the way Aalto embraced internationalisa-
tion and built contacts with American counterparts in the late 1930s was a practice
that had already been established by the previous generation. Korvenmaa went on
to add that while Germany was on many levels the primary model in technological
and cultural development, the individualistic model of democracy prevailing in the
United States, combined with social and technological modernity, became the ideal
for many.175 Although the situation described by Korvenmaa is highly interesting
from the perspective of the present research, particularly in terms of technology
transfer, his study focused on a later period than the one of this enquiry.
Aalto’s light fittings and lighting designs have been widely covered by architectural
research because, even in his early career, he was a prolific lighting designer and showed
171 Alvar Aalto und die Schweitz (Alvar Aalto and Switzerland); Aalto and America; and Alvar Aalto i Sverige (Alvar Aal-
to in Sweden) also shed light on Aalto’s rich encounters and relationships with certain cultural areas. See Jokinen
and Maurer eds. 1998b; Anderson et al. eds. 2012; and Rudberg 2005.
172 Aino Marsio-Aalto is one the three “invisible” woman architects whom Suominen-Kokkonen has brought into
focus in her doctoral dissertation, The Fringe of a Profession, which covers the period from the 1890s to the 1950s.
Suominen-Kokkonen 1992.
173 Aalto 1931c, pp. 188–193; Korvenmaa 1998, p. 74.
174 Korvenmaa 1998, passim.
175 Korvenmaa 2012, p. 101.
48
great interest in using natural light in innovative ways and, in particular, in creating
architectural solutions that took into account the existing light conditions.176 Markku
Norvasuo’s doctoral dissertation Taivaskattoinen huone (A Room with a Sky Ceiling)
discussed the role of scientific and technological knowledge of lighting in Alvar Aalto’s
architecture between 1927 and 1956. He specifically studied the importance of the
1920s and 1930s lighting technology and theories for Aalto. Norvasuo defined lighting
technology as a discipline that covers both the technology of producing light and the
theory of lighting and light sources. Norvasuo did not see the application of light-tech-
nological theories in the analysis of architectural form as a relevant object of study.177
He maintained that technological principles were not apparent in a pure form in Aalto’s
thinking, which in his opinion was understandable as Aalto was, after all, an architect,
not a technology professional.178 According to Norvasuo’s interpretation, lighting tech-
nology and theory represent a discipline separate from architecture.
Knowledge about electrophysics and the function of electrical equipment was essen-
tial for a lighting designer. Norvasuo has emphasised the importance of the Finnish
engineer Helge Kjäldman and the Danish designer Poul Henningsen for Aalto. Apart
from the influences they apparently drew from the work of these two, the Aaltos were in
a privileged position in terms of accumulating and absorbing knowledge about electricity,
as Aino’s brother and Alvar’s brother-in-law, Aksel Marsio, was one of the first pioneers
of electrification in Finland.179 At the time of the Paimio Sanatorium project, he was
heading the Helsinki Electricity Works and chairing the Lighting Economy Agency of
the Finnish Electricity Association. The remit of the agency was to provide information
and advice in all matters regarding electricity.180 Aksel Marsio’s expertise must have had a
crucial influence in Aalto’s knowledge about lighting and electrical systems.
The monographs of Aalto’s contemporary architects given this research insight into
how the professional scope and the position and relations within the different networks
of an architect were understood in 1920s and 1930s Finland. Elina Standertskjöld’s
monograph on P.E. Blomstedt (1900–1935), who was more theoretical in his approach
to architecture than Aalto and one of the architects featured at the Helsinki Minimum
Apartment Exhibition as well as a prolific writer, serves as an important benchmark.181
Erik Bryggman, who collaborated with Aalto, has been studied by art historian and
Professor Emerita Riitta Nikula182 and art historian Helena Soiri-Snellman, whose
thorough study into Erik Bryggman’s Turku period also provided a wealth of information
176 For example Kaarina Mikonranta has studied Aalto’s light fittings and Markku Norvasuo his use of light. See
Mikonranta 2002a and Norvasuo 2009.
177 He draws attention to how light and the shape of the space have usually been linked together when studying light-
ing. The shape becomes salient when observing the geometry of lighting, in other words, how light is reflected
in a space. However, the effects of the reflection of light are complex in a deeper analysis of a space. Norvasuo
2009, p. 21.
178 Norvasuo 2009, p. 25.
179 Renja Suominen-Kokkonen in personal conversation, March 18, 2015.
180 Kjäldman 1930, pp. 56–58; Norvasuo 2009, p. 35.
181 Standertskjöld 1995.
182 Nikula 1991, pp. 9–79.
49
on Aalto’s networks.183 Soiri-Snellman’s studies would suggest that it was Erik Brygg-
man who introduced Aalto to many influential people in the Turku construction busi-
ness, such as Arvi Ahti (1888–1940), and Emil Henriksson (1894–1970), who came to
play major roles in the Paimio Sanatorium project. Finnish architectural historian Aino
Niskanen’s monograph on Väinö Vähäkallio and his architectural office184 was relevant
because Vähäkallio was a member of the architectural competition jury for Paimio
Sanatorium. The other architect member of the jury, Jussi Paatela (1886–1962) has so
far not been studied to a similar degree.185 The Women’s Hospital of his design has been
discussed by Finnish art historian Petra Havu in her master’s thesis and by art historian
Maarit Henttonen as part of her doctoral dissertation on women’s and children’s hos-
pitals.186 Aalto’s Swedish colleagues, Sven Markelius and Uno Åhrén, who were active
proponents of modern architecture and engaged in CIAM’s activities, have been topics
of monographs written by Swedish architectural historian Eva Rudberg. Rudberg also
studied the 1930 Stockholm Exhibition and Aalto’s architectural projects and personal
relations in Sweden.187 Unfortunately, for the purposes of the present study, Rudberg
never carried out any detailed enquiry into the friendship between Aalto and Markelius,
a topic that remains a largely unknown territory.
1 . 3 . 5 PA I M I O S A N A T O R I U M
There are at least six previous studies and publications on the Paimio Sanatorium
building, all very different from each other. Finnish historian Sirkka-Liisa Törrönen’s
study on the history of the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland, from 1984,
represents basic research on the different stages of the construction of the hospital and
its first 50 years of operation.188 It served as the primary guide when familiarising with
the research object. El Sanatorio de Paimio, 1929–1933: Alvar Aalto, la arquitectura entre
la naturaleza y la máquina (The Paimio Sanatorium, 1929–1933. Architecture Between
Nature and Machine) from 1991 is authored by three writers, who have attempted
to develop a poetic discourse on what they consider one of the most central works of
Modernism. The school of architecture at Universitat Politècnica de Catalunya had a
pedagogic objective although the publication is not an academic dissertation as such.
Alfred Linares’ article “Alvar Aalto y la Modernidad” (Alvar Aalto and Modernity)
183 Soiri-Snellman 2010.

184 See Niskanen 2005.
185 Architect Mikael Paatela, who continued his family profession and business, studied the hospital designs of Paate-
la’s practice in his work Sairaalarakennuksen kehitys (The Development of the Hospital Building). Paatela 2003;
Art historian Petra Havu studied the Paatela practice in another book published by Paatela & co. Architects Ltd,
Piirrä, piirrä, piirrä... Paatelan arkkitehtisuunnittelun 80 vuotta. (Draw, Draw, Draw… 80 Years of Paatela Archi-
tects). Havu 2001.
186 Havu 1996 and Henttonen 2009.
187 See Rudberg 1981, 1989a, 1999 and 2005.
188 See Törrönen 1984.
50
focused on Aalto’s influences.189 Linares saw the sanatorium as a dualistic work that
can, on the one hand, be interpreted superficially as a repetition of Modernist motifs
and, on the other hand, as a synthesis of those and of Aalto’s own architectural training
which was deeply anchored in local values and attitudes.190 Mateo Closa’s article “El
Sanatorio de Paimio entre la mímesis y la invención” (The Paimio Sanatorium Between
Mimesis and Invention) discussed the architectural composition of the sanatorium.191
He was interested in, for example, the manifestations of machine romanticism. F. Javier
Biurrun’s article “D’ailleurs c’est toujours les autres qui meurent” (Besides, It’s Always
the Others Who Die)192 draws parallels between Paimio Sanatorium and the art of its
time. The special feature in this article is the composition diagrams.193
Finnish art historian Minnamaria Koskela’s master’s thesis Paimion parantola
– rakennus kuin “lääketieteellinen instrumentti” (Paimio Sanatorium – A Building Like
a “Medical Instrument”) concentrated on how doctors and the nursing staff con-
tributed to the design of the sanatorium. Koskela showed that the design work was
not solely based on science and rationalism as it was also influenced by the common
perceptions and beliefs associated with tuberculosis.194
The historic building survey that Ark-byroo Architects carried out in 2000 cov-
ered the history of the construction from 1928 to 2000, including a room inventory,
photographic documentation, and a colour and surface material analysis.195 The
work was commissioned for the purpose of building protection. In 2005, based on
this survey, the National Board of Antiquities drew up a proposal for the nomination
of Paimio Sanatorium to the UNESCO World Heritage List.196 A seminar publica-
tion by ICOMOS on Paimio Sanatorium on its protection values also exists.197 The
author of the present work together with Ark-byroo Architects launched a website
aimed at the general public in 2014 introducing the architectural solutions of Paimio
Sanatorium.198 Later that same year, the Alvar Aalto Academy and Building Infor-
mation organisation published a monograph on Paimio Sanatorium, containing
several short articles on the topic.
The book by the French architect Jean-Paul Cremnitzer, Architecture et santé
(Architecture and Health) discussed the typology of European sanatoria of the 1920s
and 1930s.199 The typology of sanatoria, different national situations and individual
189 Linares 1991, pp. 59–79.

190 Linares 1991, pp. 62–63.
191 Closa 1991, pp. 81–105.
192 Biurrun 1991, pp. 107–131.
193 In these diagrams, Biurrun compared the solutions employed in Paimio Sanatorium to the designs of Villa Snell-
man, Zonnestraal Sanatorium, Bauhaus Main Building in Dessau and the competition entries of the Kinkomaa San-
atorium and the Zagreb Hospital of Aalto. He also compared Paimio Sanatorium to the other proposals submitted
to the competition. Biurrun 1991, pp. 114–131.
194 Koskela 1998, p. 86.
195 Heikinheimo et al., Ark-byroo Architects 2000.
196 Ehrström et al. eds. 2005.
197 Salastie 2010.
198 The content of the website www.paimiosanatorium.fi is based on the first stage of the author’s doctoral diserta-
tion conducted in 1999–2002.
199 Cremnitzer 2005.
51
sanatoria have also been researched by a number of other scholars.200 Similar, com-
prehensive studies on Finnish sanatoria have not been made, despite the fact that
they were quite notable as a phenomenon in the 1930s. From the perspective of this
study, a work of great importance is Annemarie Adams’ research into North Amer-
ican and Canadian hospital architecture, Medicine by Design, The Architect and The
Modern Hospital, 1893–1943.201 An in-depth monograph on the history and repair
of Zonnestraal Sanatorium has been published only recently.202 Similarly, Adrian
Forty’s study on the social and medical ambitions behind hospital architecture has
inspired many other researchers, including myself. According to Forty, there is no
clear causal relationship between medicine and hospital construction and, when
studying hospital architecture, it is advisable to devote attention to the motives of the
different stakeholders contributing to the hospital design.203
200 See e.g. Åman 1976, Tavares 2005, Ruiloba Quecedo 2013b and Châtelet 2014.
201 See Adams 2008.
202 The publication Sanatorium Zonnestraal concentrates mainly on the restoration of the building designed in 1926
and it was authored by a team of writers. Meurs and van Thoor eds. 2010.
203 Forty 1984, p. 61; Adams 2008, p. xviii.
52
1.4 THE RESEARCH METHODS
A N D M AT E R I A L S
T
his chapter explains the methods employed when carrying out the study. The
approach was anthropological. The actors that were focused were allowed to
lead this study to the salient perspectives and discourses. The material prod-
ucts of culture were seen as parts of a larger immanent discourse, and, in view of
the adopted strategy, any historical assessment of architecture was by its nature an
assessment of the social and cultural discourse as well.204
Moreover, the architectural discourse relating to the technological system was seen as
part of the reality of the research object and of the architect in particular. Besides written
sources and archive material, the building itself served as evidence. Professor David Wang
from the United States has classified evidence of interpretive-historical research into four
categories: determinative, contextual, inferential and recollective evidence. Different tactics
were used as regards evidence; for example, the minutes of the Building Board and the
Building Committee, important source material, were considered both as determinative and
as inferential evidence, and the contemporary literature as contextual evidence.205
The primary context of the research was the development of the building, the inter-
play between the stakeholders and their decision-making process. The time frame of the
building project extended from 1928, when the decision to build Paimio Sanatorium
was made by the Federation of Municipalities of Southwest Finland and the archi-
tectural competition, open to Finnish architects, was launched, until 1933, when the
sanatorium was inaugurated.206
1 . 4 .1 M A T E R I A L S
Texts written by influential architectural ideologists of the 1920s and 1930s were primary
sources. In this research, the closer study of the international discourse was limited to the
printed presentations of Le Corbusier and Walter Gropius from two CIAM seminars.
The selection of Aalto’s texts was based on the publishing period and the information
value. The selection and the analysis of this empiristic material is explained in Chapter 2,
“Alvar Aalto’s Professional Networks”. To build a solid body of background information,
publications on hospital architecture of the time, as referred to in research literature, were
also familiarised.207
204 Wang 2002, p. 151.

205 Wang 2002, pp. 154–158.
206 The building was inaugurated on June 18, 1933. Törrönen 1984, p. 46.
207 Publications on the hospital architecture of the time included e.g. the conference publication of the 1931 Vienna
hospital conference Rationeller Krankenhausbau (The Rational Hospital Building), Richard Döcker’s Terassen Typ
(The Terrace Type), a 1928 theme issue of Die Baugilden (The Construction Journal) on hospital architecture, the
Swedish architect Gustav Birch-Lindgren’s doctoral dissertation Svenska lasarettsbyggnader: modern lasaretts
byggnadskonst i teori och praktik (Swedish Hospital Buildings: The Theory and Practice in Modern Hospital Archi-
tecture) from 1934. See e.g. Distel 1932, Döcker 1929 and Birch-Lindgren 1934.
53
From the perspective of the execution of hospital designs, one of the two archives
of major importance was the archive of the hospital itself.208 The minutes of the Build-
ing Committee and the Building Board were records of decision making during the
building process, most of which have been preserved for posterity. The hospital archive
also contained contracts, as well as the drawings and specifications by the engineers
and companies responsible for executing different parts of the building, including the
constructional drawings of Emil Henriksson. In both of these administrative bodies,
the Board and the Committee, Mr Ilmo Kalkas, acted as the secretary. Most of the
minutes were typed, and some were hand written. In each document there were several
sections, each dealing with one subject matter only. The style of the documents was
objective, the texts were short, and most often only the decisions were recorded. In the
minutes of the executive body, the Building Committee, the discussion of alternatives
and the grounds for decisions was mostly omitted. Exceptions were made in certain
cases such as the filling of the supervising doctor’s position209, and in the selection
process of the plumbing contractor, in which Aalto wanted his divergent opinion to
be recorded in the minutes210. A few decisions were discussed at length over several
meetings. In the minutes of the Building Committee, there were often appendices, such
as contractors’ and suppliers’ tenders. In the minutes of the Building Board, the flow of
decision making and the decisions themselves were described in more detail.
Aalto’s drawings, photographs from the construction period and of the finished build-
ing, as well as his correspondence, are kept in the Alvar Aalto Museum archive, which was
one of the two principal sources of information for this study. The archive also contains
certain other documents, such as engineers’ drawings and product catalogues, in addition
to those produced by the architects. The drawings and photographs and the letters from
the Aalto archive have been selected following an examination of the archive. The archi-
vists also made available reports on Aalto’s library database, and correspondence.
According to the classification system of the Alvar Aalto Museum, the architectural
drawings of Paimio Sanatorium belong to class 50 – hospitals, sanatoriums, rehabili-
tation centres – and there are nearly 600 items dated between 1929 and 1932.211 The
Paimio drawings included sketches, the competition entry, the master plan, working
drawings, and details. Some of the drawings were designated as standards by the
architect.212
208 Turku University Central Hospital’s Paimio Hospital archives (PSA), which were investigated in the Paimio hospital
building itself, have since been gradually incorporated into main archives in the 2010s.
209 Building Committee May 17, 1932. PSA.
210 Building Committee April 7, 1931. PSA.
211 According to the ledger of AAM the drawings related to Paimio Sanatorium, dated 1929–1932, belonged to class
50 and were numbered 24–35, 54–486, 636–766, 949–956, and 977–978. Besides these, some drawings, such
as Nos. 50-534, 50-555, and 50-1038 were copies or drawings classified under other projects or marked with
later timing.
212 These were designs of building components, such as doors, windows, light fittings, chairs, a metal tube sofa, a
handrail and furnishings of the patient room, including the wardrobe, a glass shelf, a washing bowl and a spitting
bowl. Standertskjöld 1992b, pp. 89–111.
54
The historic building survey of Paimio Sanatorium Ark-byroo Architects carried out
as a consulting project in 2000,213 and the researcher’s earlier work as the project architect
of the Vyborg City Library (1927–1935) restoration project helped to achieve familiarity
with the site and Aalto’s architecture of the period. This was essential in order to arrive at
conjectures that, in the completed narrative, have the weight of informed opinion. Other
projects designed by Alvar Aalto from the same period were inspected visually in order to
understand Aalto’s architectural approach, and the similarities, differences and repetitive
elements in them.214 Also inspected on site visits were works by other architects such as
the Zonnestraal Sanatorium in Hilversum designed by Johannes Duiker, Bernard Bijvoet
and Jan Gerko Wiebenga, a building referred to as the model for Paimio Sanatorium,215
the Bauhaus Dessau by Walter Gropius, a number of Le Corbusier’s and André Lurçat’s
works in Paris,216 the Weissenhof Siedlung (Weissenhof Housing Scheme) in Stuttgart,
and in addition certain other Finnish sanatoria.217
1 . 4 . 2 T H E A N A LY S I S
The empirical section on the construction process in this dissertation could be

described as a “close reading”: I have aimed at a highly detailed chronology of cer-
tain chains of events by juxtaposing various design and construction documents and
drawing comparisons between them. The purpose of this method was to identify the
critical points of the process. The general research question was approached through
different methods of data analysis.
The interaction between different actors has mainly been studied by cross-referenc-
ing the minutes of decision-making bodies, correspondence and drawings. The only
representative of the architectural practice mentioned in the minutes was Alvar Aalto.
The letters were mainly signed by Alvar Aalto, but other employees of his office also
participated in acquisitions. In terms of the drawings, their authorship of each drawing
has been validated based on signatures and initials.
213 Heikinheimo et al., Ark-byroo architects 2000.

214 These included his own house in Helsinki (1934–1936), Villa Mairea in Noormarkku (1938–1939), the Sunila Pulp
Mill (1937–1938) and its housing area (partly from the 1930s) in Kotka, the Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building in
Turku (1928–1930), the Standard Apartment Building in Turku (1927–1929) and the Southwest Finland Agricultural
Cooperative Building in Turku (1927–1929).
215 See e.g. Heinonen 1986, p. 239.
216 I refer to Le Corbusier’s works from the late 1920s and early 1930s such as Atelier Ozenfant, Maison La Roche-Jean-
neret, Villa Savoye, the Salvation Army and the Swiss Pavilion.
217 An on-site visual inspection was executed at Satalinna Sanatorium in Harjavalta (architect Onni Tarjanne 1925,
and Jussi Paatela 1927), Kinkomaa Sanatorium in Muurame (architects Jussi and Toivo Paatela 1927–1930, and
Jussi Paatela 1937–1938), Ahvenisto Sanatorium (architects Jussi and Toivo Paatela 1930–1932), the Tubercu-
losis Hospital of the City of Helsinki (architect Eino Forsman 1929), Women’s Hospital (architect Jussi Paatela
1932–1934), Tilkka Military Hospital (architect Olavi Sortta 1934–1936), Kiljavannummi Sanatorium (architect
Jussi Paatela 1938), Tarinaharju sanatorium in Siilinjärvi (architect Eino Forsman 1930) and Keski-Häme Sanato-
rium in Kangasala (architect Eino Forsman 1932).
55
DATA TYPE ANALYSIS METHOD ASPECT OF ANALYSIS
Texts by Alvar Aalto Identifying ideas on the relationship between Primary sources were interpreted as parts of
architecture and technology and identifying the reality of the research object, providing
influences from Le Corbusier and Walter the researcher with information on the
Gropius. Discussion on the target audience. intellectual sphere. Also the visual elements
Analysing the visual elements in relation to of Aalto’s articles were problematised.
the text.
Architectural designs Preparing a database of all preserved Design documents were interpreted as parts
architectural drawings. Listing the documents of the reality of the research object, providing
in chronological order, considering the the researcher with information on how the
content, grouping the drawings, comparing technological issues were dealt with. The
them to other sources. Some of the original drawings also provided the researcher with
architectural drawings held at the Aalto information on what was considered worth
Museum were in such poor condition that the designing and how the designs changed.
researcher was not allowed to access them
and no copies of them were available.
Constructional working Preparing a database of all known construc- Design documents were interpreted as
drawings, specifications and tional drawings. Listing the documents in parts of the reality of the research object,
workshop drawings chronological order, considering the content, providing the research information on how
and comparing them to other sources. the technological issues were dealt with.
Minutes of the Building Indexing the subject matter in chronological Firstly, the material was taken as fact, and
Board and the Building order, constructing a narrative, discussing the secondly, it was taken as parts of the reality
Committee decision making process, and comparing the of the research object.
content to other sources.
Contracts Comparing the content to other sources. Firstly, material was taken as fact, and
Considering the relations of the different secondly, it was taken as parts of the reality
stakeholders. of the research object.
Photographs from the Comparing the content to other sources. Photographs were taken both as fact and as
building period parts of the reality of the research object,
providing the researcher with information on
what was considered worth photographing.
Texts by ideologically What kind of technology-related content Published articles were interpreted as parts
influential architects at did the writer highlight in the text and the of the reality of the research object.
conferences and exhibition illustrations.
catalogues
The building itself and other Historical survey and familiarity with the site. Material was taken as fact.
related buildings
Table. 1.4.2a. Methods and aspects of analysis of different data types.
56
The text analysis, covering the primary sources, was done by identifying ideas or ways
to understand the relationship between the architecture and technology of the period. It
focused on the strategies of the writer, and tactics dealing with the topical focal points of
this research, such as construction, electrical installations, water supply and sewage, win-
dows, and the functions of the architect and the engineer. Aalto’s own texts were analysed
the same way as those of Le Corbusier and Gropius. The target audience, to whom the
text was addressed, was also discussed.
A robust narration of each building component or technological system was first
compiled on the basis of the minutes of the Building Board and the Building Committee,
the written contracts and the inspection records, which were arranged in chronological
order. On the one hand, these documents were considered factual documentation of the
course of events. This narrative of each building part was compared with other source
materials, such as drawings, specifications and the building itself. On the other hand, the
minutes formed part of the reality of the research object, displaying the social interaction
of the decision making process. The minutes revealed, among other things, the inten-
tions of different parties, and they also answered questions, such as who proposed what,
whether someone objected to something, whether the administrative bodies altered the
plans, in what way the solutions and decisions evolved, and who was entitled to act as the
representative of these bodies in different situations. The matters that were not discussed
in these meetings also revealed characteristics of the process. In addition to the course
of actions, the minutes revealed what was important for the body to record and how
decisions were recorded.
Architectural drawings and other design documents218 were grouped into categories
to match the topical focal points of this research, such as the designs relating to the
windows. The categories included drawings from the competition phase to working draw-
ings, and from elevation drawings to the smallest details and standards drawings. Within
each group, the drawings were arranged in chronological order. This method was useful
for understanding the ways in which the design was altered and which solutions were
abandoned. These considerations were then juxtaposed against the analysis of the minutes
and the workshop drawings. Through this method, I was able to trace which building
parts were afforded the most design effort and who participated in the process. Prior to
this analysis, I compiled a database of the entire drawing material, which I would use as
support for my analysis and which enabled me to carry out image searches.
Architectural drawings served two purposes. In the case of certain solutions, such as the
patient room window, the drawings together with other documentation shed light on the
developments of the design process. Similarly, examining the metamorphosis of the patient
room wardrobe became possible with this method. However, some drawings were undated
and putting them in chronological order was more challenging. For certain features, no
drawings had been preserved or possibly none had ever been made. This was the case with
some of the light fittings, the patient room bedside table and the circular concrete structures
218 The original drawings and specifications are located in the AAM.
57
used in the water treatment facility. It may well be that the drawing of the bedside table
has disappeared or that the architect paid a visit to the workshop and directly instructed
the manufacturers. In addition, the architectural drawing of the patient room light fitting
does not correspond to the actual one made. There is, however, a modest pencil sketch that
is very close to the actual light fitting design. The drawings, in other words, do not fully
reveal how certain features came into being. Some of the drawings, such as the detailed
working drawings for the steel windows were created at the drawing department of the
subcontractor, Crichton-Vulcan. The series of engineer’s drawings in the Paimio Hospital
Archive is incomplete. Only part of the series of structural drawings that were used at
the building site of the main building has been preserved. These drawings had markings
that were made on site, including dates, which provided a great deal of new information
and enabled their comparison to architectural drawings and decision-making documents.
Some drawings were missing, such as the overall structural drawing of the sundeck wing,
which the engineer most likely drew. Similarly, drawings were missing from water and
sewage piping plans, such as the interim-stage drawings indicating space requirements for
the sewage system for the patient room. Drawings on the biological treatment plant were
also missing. Owing to the gaps in the drawings, I was obliged to rely on other, mainly
written documents, as sources.
The architectural drawings included standard drawings, which were idealised pres-
entations of a feature and which were not as such reliable sources for establishing the
developments during the construction process, but which were interpreted as more
general expressions of the architect’s intents.
Aalto was highly aware of the power of mass media and he exploited it to commu-
nicate his ideas, as prescribed by CIAM’s mission. The visuality of Aalto’s articles on
Paimio in the Swedish journal Byggmästaren (The Master Builder), the Finnish journal
Arkkitehti (The Finnish Architectural Journal) and the publication Varsinais-Suomen
tuberkuloosiparantola (The Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland) was analysed.
Special attention was paid to which characteristics he highlighted, and which aspects he
gave no attention to. This visual material revealed which characteristics Aalto considered
worth presenting, and is discussed in Chapter 2.Photographs of Paimio Sanatorium
from Aalto’s office, including photos taken by Aino Marsio-Aalto and Gustaf Welin,
have been used as factual evidence on how a part of the building was constructed.
Emil Henriksson’s working drawings on the reinforced concrete skeleton219 were
arranged in chronological order according to their date. When drawings were organised
in this way and compared to the minutes, the drawings revealed, among other things,
the steps and the approximate schedule according to which the reinforced concrete
skeleton was built. In this study the architectural drawings and the constructional
designs were set side by side in order to visualise interaction.
219 Copies of the original working drawings are located in the PSA. The selection is, however, incomplete. Some of
the Paimio Hospital archive (PSA) was transferred to the Turku University Central Hospital main archive between
2013 and 2014.
58
1.5 THE SCOPE AND THE CONCEPTS
1 . 5 .1 H O S P I T A L A R C H I T E C T U R E
According to the Argentinian architectural theorist Juan Pablo Bonta, the analysis
of expressive systems in architecture can only be made in terms of classes, such as
functional and formal typologies. Different types of meanings will be conducive to
different expressive systems. Each expressive system will selectively highlight some
meanings while obscuring others.220 The class referred to in this study was based
on technological solutions in architecture within a certain historical context.221 For
example hospital architecture, Finnish architecture of the 1930s, or Aalto’s oeuvre on
the whole remained outside the scope of this examination, although some buildings
belonging to these classes have been referred to. For example, the mechanical air
conditioning systems in contemporary hospitals that were introduced in Arkkitehti
(The Finnish Architectural Journal) were referred to in articles written by the engi-
neers and architects working on these other projects.222
Despite the fact that tuberculosis was the worst public health problem in Finland
in the early decades of the 20th century223, and the task of designing the public sana-
torium in Paimio offered the architect a social point of departure for developing new
forms, this dissertation does not deal with the socio-historical significance of the
hospital project.224 This is not a study on Finnish sanatorium architecture either, a
subject which is still to be addressed.225 Despite the fact that the hospital as a build-
ing type had evolved for centuries, the sanatorium was a relatively recent building
220 Bonta 1979, passim pp. 125–129.

221 See also, e.g., Raija-Liisa Heinonen, according to whom the architecture of Paimio Sanatorium appeared
to have been influenced by other building types than just hospital architecture. Heinonen 1986, passim.,
especially p. 237 and pp. 239–243.
222 See, e.g., engineer G. Huber’s article on the City of Helsinki Tuberculosis Hospital and architect Jussi Paatela’s
article on the Red Cross Hospital. Huber 1929 and Paatela 1933.
223 The question of establishing tuberculosis sanatoria had become topical in Finland at the turn of the century.
The first large public sanatorium built in Finland was the Satalinna Tuberculosis Sanatorium, opened in 1925.
The Finnish Defence Forces fought the “white plague” in the 1920s by raising the standard of hygiene in bar-
racks. The first actual military sanatorium was opened in 1929 in the municipality of Uusikirkko in the province
of Vyborg. A real turning point in the founding of public sanatoria was in 1930, when the Act on State Aid came
into force. See Pesonen 1980, passim, and Mäkinen 2000, passim.
224 Maarit Henttonen’s dissertation on women’s and children’s hospitals brought out the social underpinnings and
models in hospital building in Finland at the time. Henttonen 2009.
225 Finnish sanatoria, a substantial phenomenon, from the 1930s have not been studied albeit Finnish hospital
architecture has been studied in dissertations (Henttonen 2009, Mäkinen 2000 and Kjisik 2009), in a Licentiate
thesis (Paatela 2003), and in Master’s theses (e.g. Holma 1993, Havu 1996 and Koskela 1998). Many studies on
architectural history have also dealt with hospitals and sanatoria.
59
type226, and as such was less dependent on established models.227 On a more gener-
alised level, Finnish hospital design developed to the international level in the 1930s.
Besides Paimio Sanatorium, the Women’s Hospital designed by Jussi Paatela228 was
held up as a model of hospital design, both in Finland and internationally.229
Paimio Sanatorium, like other modern 1930s hospitals, made use of medical
technology such as the x-ray equipment used for mass screening of patients, oper-
ating theatres with instruments and the equipment needed for phototherapy. This
study does not, however, deal with the development of medical science, technology
or treatment methods.230 In the 1930s in Finland, despite equipment, the treatment
of tuberculosis was mainly based on improvement of the patient’s general physical
condition and on making the patients lie in large open-air wards for several hours
a day.231 In Finnish legislation, hospital buildings were considered to be medical
instruments, as the Act on State Aid which came into force in 1930 laid down many
of the physical features applying to sanatorium buildings.232 Adrian Forty has argued
that the change in the hospital type 233 cannot be explained by scientific development
alone, and that changes in the typology of hospital buildings reflect the ambition of
physicians to exercise power.234 The research of Stephen Verderber and David J. Fine
Healthcare Architecture in an Era of Radical Transformation deals with huge hospital
complexes of the late 20th century as social, technological and architectural entities.
They divided the historical development of hospitals into six waves. Juxtaposed to
their classification Paimio Sanatorium resembles the “Minimalist Megahospital”,
which became common only in the decades following World War II. The researchers
characterised this type of Modernist hospitals as perfect architectural expressions
of high-tech medicine, which were reduced to their structural essence and became
sheer containers of volumetric machines to be healed. The hospital became more
specialised and there were zones for different functions. The hospital grew in size
226 The sanatorium as a building type existed for about half a century until the 1960s in Sweden and the 1970s in
Finland. Åman 1976, p. 269; Pesonen 1980, passim, especially p. 479.
227 In the 1920s, architecturally new types of institutions had been developed in Europe, such as the Zonnestraal
Sanatorium, with its freely orientated wings but still part of an entirely symmetrical composition, designed by
B. Bivojet and J. Duicker and the Weiblingen Sanatorium, a terraced building, designed by R. Döcker, which
had become known to the architects participating in the open architectural competition for Paimio Sanatorium
through publications, exhibitions and visits, and from which they had drawn influences. Heinonen 1986, p. 237
and pp. 239–240.
228 Architect Jussi Paatela worked as a specialist with the Hospital Department of the State Medical Board during the
planning of Paimio Sanatorium. Henttonen 2009, pp. 141–148.
229 Henttonen 2009, p. 320.
230 Medical treatment methods included pneumothorax treatment, thoracoplasty (plastic surgery of the thorax) sev-
ering of the phrenic nerve and oleothorax treatment. Forsius 2000a.
231 Forsius 2000a.
232 In addition to the plan for establishing a sanatorium, a description of the location, site and intended buildings of
the institution and a site plan showing the organisation of the buildings in relation to one another, the drawings
of the hospital buildings proper, showing floor plans and height of rooms, the number of beds to be placed in the
various wards, the structure of windows, lighting, heating and ventilation equipment and cost calculations, were
to be appended to the application for state aid for the costs of establishment. Asetus valtionavusta 270/1929,
pykälä 3. (Decree on State Aid 270 /1929, Section 3).
233 The hospital type changed in the 18th century from a manor-like castle to a pavilion-type hospital and then to a
block-type hospital building in the 20th century. Forty 1984, p. 61.
234 Forty 1984, pp. 61–93.
60
and spatial complexity. The structural systems developed, as well as the heating, ven-
tilation and mechanical air conditioning systems. The typology evolved from earlier
pavilions to block hospitals.235
Tuberculosis sanatoria were built for one purpose only and had spaces designated
for the necessary activities, such as ward rooms and sundecks. As the disease is con-
tagious, isolation was one of the guiding principles in the design of these specialist
hospitals. At Paimio as well as the other Finnish sanatoria, the isolation principle is
evident in the selection of the hospital site.236 Favouring separate small patient rooms
instead of large Nightingale wards was also a means to isolate patients.237 The national
movement to organise treatment and care for tuberculosis patients and Modernism
emerged concurrently. The modernist formal idiom and solutions, such as flat roofs, bal-
conies and roof gardens became popular even in northern climates such as in Finland.
These themes catered to the trendy tastes of the affluent upper classes but also more
pragmatic considerations, such as treating tuberculosis. The sanatoria became models
for housing construction.238 According to an article by the Canadian architectural
historian Margaret Campbell, “What Tuberculosis Did for Modernism: The Influence
of a Curative Environment on Modernist Design and Architecture”, architecture,
therapies and physical recuperation were believed to be integrally linked up until the
development of efficient antibiotics in the 1950s.239 Another research group, in an arti-
cle titled “Collapse and Expand: Architecture and Tuberculosis Therapy in Montreal,
1909, 1933, 1954”, has looked into how different tuberculosis treatment methods have
overlapped, how old methods were replaced by new ones and how different therapies
have co-existed over a period of time. According to the article, architecture was seen a
method of treatment and one that developed hand in hand with other treatments.240
In earlier research, the tuberculosis sanatorium has been seen as a tool for healing and
research has been undertaken specifically into the interaction and discourse between
medical experts and architects. In this study, the role of the experts of the State Medical
Board has been discussed in a separate chapter, and the actions of authorities and norms
become evident as part of the building process.
235 Verderber & Fine 2000, Chapter 1 “The Six Waves of Health Architecture”, pp. 3–16.
236 See Koskela 1998.
237 Adams et al. 2008, p. 915.
238 Campbell 2005, pp. 1–3/15.
239 Campbell 2005, p. 10/15.
240 Adams et al. 2008, pp. 908–942.
61
1.5.2 HYGIENE
Hygiene is a relative concept; a hundred years ago, it involved areas that currently are
understood to fall under the domain of social policy, health care, elderly care, food safety
and personal hygiene.241 In the inter-war period, the pursuit of hygiene included major
public information campaigns in Europe. Similarly, in architecture, the progressive
aesthetic ideas of the first few decades of the 20th century were to do with hygiene,
light and transparency.242 Kirsi Saarikangas, a Finnish art historian who has studied
housing architecture, concluded that, at that time, in the approach to hygiene in hous-
ing, the focus was on the home as the benchmark and instrument for hygiene, social
and aesthetic education and improvement.243 A sanatorium and a laboratory, however,
were central symbols of the new society and citizens, setting the standards for housing.
Alongside population density, cleanliness and healthiness, which had been the corner-
stones of hygiene in the home, new notions entered the discourse in the inter-war
period, namely the design of details, a pragmatic spatial organisation and the relation
between different rooms.244 Saarikangas also made a sharp observation regarding the
“vulgarisation of bacteriology”. With the confusion of miasma theory and bacteriology
in public health education and housing-related debate in the press, the aim of creating a
clean living environment became a type of vulgarised form of bacteriology. At the same
time, popularising bacteriological findings became an objective for the discipline and
the prevention of disease a moral virtue. As bacteria are invisible to the eye, ordinary
people had to make do with removing visible signs, that is, dirt, and with creating
spaces that looked, smelled and felt clean.245 In terms of lighting, hygienic standards
referred to the elimination of glare, avoiding tiring the eyes, the reduced capacity to
work and sensory irritation.246 Physical privacy and cleanliness were emphasised as a
hygienic strategy. This showed in the architecture of dwellings, schools, barracks, hos-
pitals and other public institutions, where physical privacy and the private space were
assigned more importance. In the debate on hygiene and housing, emphasis was placed
on the impact of the environment on personal health and morals. The entire debate was
marked with a belief in the power of architecture to change people’s lives.247
According to Maarit Henttonen, hygienic considerations in conjunction with hos-
pital architecture also included the notion of aesthetic hygiene. Simple, downtoned
architecture was perceived as hygienic and so this aesthetic hygiene was extended in
hospitals to the level of specific details, both inside and outside.248According to Anne-
marie Adams, hospitals in the United States and Canada aspired towards impeccable
241 Henttonen 2009, p. 55.

242 See Overy 2007, pp. 52–57.
243 Saarikangas 2002, p. 44; Gold 1997, pp. 57–64.
244 Saarikangas 2002, pp. 45–50.
246 Norvasuo 2009, p. 79.
248 Henttonen 2009, p. 324.
62
cleanliness, with the priority in design on hygienic surfaces, medical applications and
financially and ideologically motivated solutions. She argued that, in the case of inter-
war period hospitals, it was difficult to differentiate whether a certain solution stemmed
from an attempt to create and maintain an image of cleanliness or to prevent the
transmission of diseases.249 She maintained that, in addition to the countless cleaning
devices, there were numerous design details for fitting doors, windows, wall foundations,
medicine cabinets, lavatories and even ventilators seamlessly onto the wall surface.250
Hygiene may also have a symbolic representation, such as the white walls favoured by
modernists. The New Zealand-born architectural scholar Mark Wigley’s study, White
Walls, Designer Dresses, explored the aesthetic of white walls. He argued that white walls
incorporate racial and gender-related and sexual meaning, and are by no means neutral
or innocent.251
249 Adams 2008, p. 126.

250 Adams 2008, p. 126.
251 Wigley 1995, p. 359; The Finnish art historian Anne Mäkinen has also studied the symbolism of white walls in
military hospitals in the inter-war period. Mäkinen 2000.
63
1.5.3 TECHNOLOGY
The relationship between architecture and technology was not stable even in ancient
Greece. In ancient Greece, architecture was understood as a marriage of thought and
action, represented by the Greek concept techné, technology in the sense of ‘the art of
making’.252 In ancient Greece the concept of techné, as generally understood, covered not
only manual work but also fields requiring knowledge and skill, such as building, sculpture,
acting and rhetoric. Plato defined knowledge, episteme, as a true belief that has a basis or
an explanation. The knowledge of a craftsman was also such knowledge. Aristotle, on
the other hand, distinguished between theoretical knowledge, practical knowledge and
productive crafts. He defined craft as “a state of rational ability to create”, which in an
interesting way highlights the knowledge that lies at the basis of techné. As a heritage of
antiquity, knowledge and craft, or skill, were kept strictly apart.253 The Greek word tekton,
in turn, referred to a carpenter or builder. The concept expanded in the fifth century BC,
and it was considered to encompass the dimension of poïesis, or creativity. This concept led
to the emergence of the concepts of master builder and architecton.254
The relationship between architecture and technology changed in the wake of
industrialisation so that art and construction became separate. The German architect
and scholar Gottfried Semper (1803–1879) suggested in his 1851 work, The Four Ele-
ments of Architecture, that a primitive dwelling could be divided into four basic elements:
the heart, the earthwork, the roof and the enclosure.255 According to the Australian
Professor Gevork Hartoonian, who studied the ontology of structure, Gottfried Semper
radicalised the question on the origin of architecture and overhauled the anthropo-
centric discourse by arguing that architecture was based on four crafts. According to
Hartoonian, Semper’s discourse undermined the metaphysical content of techné and
the tectonic while emphasising the automatisation of values and experience.256
Albeit the etymology of “technology” is passed down to us from antiquity, the con-
cept needs to be discussed in connection to industrialisation and science. Industrialisa-
tion started in the mid-18th century and proceeded rapidly during the next century. The
context of this study is modern technology, which differs from the technology of the
previous times in its relation to scientific knowledge. Beginning in the late 19th century,
people developing technological systems started to apply scientific knowledge to them.
However, the modern technological systems are not about scientific knowledge alone.
Historian Thomas Hughes from the United States has defined technological systems as
such that use whatever means available and appropriate to solve problems or fulfil goals.
252 “Techné” is the Greek word for technology; it means “the art of making”. Hartoonian 1997, pp. 1–2.
253 Niiniluoto 2000, p. 17.
254 Frampton 1996, pp. 3–4.
255 On the basis of this taxonomy Semper classifies the building crafts into the tectonics of the frame, in which linear
lightweight components are assembled so as to encompass a spatial matrix, and the streotomics of the earth-
work, wherein mass and volume are conjointly formed through the repetitious piling up of heavyweight elements.
Frampton 1996, p. 5.
256 Hartoonian 1997, p. 1.
64
For Hughes the problem solving is usually concerned with reordering of the material
world to make it more productive of goods and services. He has also paid attention to
the special ability of technological systems to postdate the problem to the emergence of
a system as a solution.257 In the context of the present work, technology is understood
as a heterogeneous system comprising of inanimate or physical artefacts and humans,
including people, organisations, norms, economics, and architectural theory. Further-
more, here a building has been understood as a technological system, in which the
building with all its aspects and subsystems is the artefact.
The researcher must of course question the concepts he or she uses. As the meaning
of the concept of technology in 1930s Finland very obviously differs from its mean-
ing in the researcher’s culture, there is the risk of anachronism, i.e. that the researcher
examines the phenomenon using the concepts of an alien culture. For example, the
use of the term “technology” in its modern sense only became more common in the
USA after World War I, and was established there after the Great Depression of the
1930s.258 According to Finnish Professor Jorma Kalela, the historian must aim at a
true and just description of the object of research and must assess it according to the
premises of the research, meaning the questions that the researcher’s social position
and cultural environment have caused him or her to ask, in the same way as the object
of historical research, in order better to control his or her own cultural limitations.259 I
have gone through the factors influencing my research framework in the Foreword and
Chapter 1 “Introduction”. As regards the concept of technology, the most significant
difference between the culture of the object of study and of the researcher is probably
that nowadays researchers explain technology as being heterogeneous, and our general
understanding of the concept of technology prevailing in the 1930s is that it leaned
towards the mechanical. However, in my research I question the premise that Alvar
Aalto’s conception of technology in the 1930s was purely mechanical, basing my reser-
vations on the expressions he used in his articles and his methods of working.
257 Hughes 1997 [1987], p. 53.

258 Marx 1998 [1994], pp. 247–248.
259 Kalela 2000, p. 87.
65
1.5.4 MODERNISM
The everyday living environment in the completed Paimio Sanatorium was certainly
of a higher standard than most patients were accustomed to in their own homes.
The modernity of the hospital, and how it was experienced by the individuals, was
an important ideological standpoint for the architect: Aalto was aiming to create a
physiological dwelling260 and was interested in psychologically varied interiors for
patient use. However, this research is not concerned with how the users personally
experienced the new kind of environment. Hence, the research deals with the dialectics
between modernisation and modern architecture, that is, Modernism. Many scholars
have discussed the complexity of the concept of modern architecture and, today, it is
understood as a whole closely linked with wider cultural modernisation. Furthermore,
Modernism is not considered a style.261 In the present dissertation, the term ‘Modern-
ism’ has been used to denote inter-war period architecture and, in some contexts, to
the Modernism of the period when Paimio Sanatorium was being built. Each instance
shows which denotation was referred. The use of the term “Functionalism” was avoided
except in citations. In Finland, “Functionalism” as a concept is typically associated with
Modernism in the decade before and the one after World War II. Nowadays, attitudes
are critical towards using the concept of “Functionalism”.262 Aalto did not himself use
the term in relation to Paimio Sanatorium, or his other works in the early 1930s – and
in this sense there is no justification for using it. He used varied terminology during the
building of Paimio Sanatorium, such as “new realism”. However, in 1940, Aalto stated
that the term rationalism is used in connection with modern architecture almost as
often as “Functionalism”.263 Finnish architects such as P.E. Blomstedt and Aalto, and
their Swedish modernist colleagues, rejected the idea of seeing the new direction as an
architectural style; for them defining a movement as a style was superficial.264
According to Adrian Forty, the success of architectural metaphors depends on the
difference of phenomena rather than their similarity.265 Following that science became
the predominant discourse of the 20th century, many architectural metaphors, such as
circulation, mechanical methaphors, both fluid and static, originated from science.266
He writes: “... The success of the word ‘functional’ relies upon a commonly accepted
agreement that architecture is different from biology and from mathematics. And
furthermore, the scientific metaphors employed in architecture are drawn from such a
260 In his article “Asuntomme probleemina” (The Dwelling as a Design Problem), from the year 1930, Aalto neverthe-
less stressed the physiological needs common to human beings rather than the experience of the individual. Aalto
1930e, pp. 176–189; Schildt 1997a, pp. 76–84; Schildt 1997b, pp. 76–84.
261 Banham 1982 [1962], pp. 9–10; Colqohoun 1994 [1989], pp. 74–75; Heinonen 1986, pp. 4–5 and p. 8; Niskanen
2005, pp. 19–22 and Lahti 2006, p. 31.
262 Heinonen has explained the terms as used in the period under research. Heinonen 1986, pp. 4–9.
263 “The Humanising of Architecture” is an article published in The Technological Review in 1940, and quoted in
Schildt 1997, pp. 102–107. Aalto 1997 [1940].
264 See, e.g., Aalto 1930b, Aalto 1930e, Åhrén 1929 and Blomstedt 1928.
265 Forty 2000, p. 100.
266 Forty 2000, pp. 87–101 passim.
66
diversity of scientific fields, from natural sciences as well as physical sciences and math-
ematics, the cumulative effect is to suggest the unlikeness of architecture to science in
general”.267 According to Banham, architectural theoreticians accepted the term “Func-
tional” into general use from the 1930s onwards, used in the sense that Le Corbusier
intended, to replace the term “Rational”. It was not, however, Le Corbusier’s intention
to replace the idea behind the latter. Both Le Corbusier and Gropius rejected the 19th
century meaning of the concept Functionalism, which had deterministic undertones.268
The concept of rationalism is associated with technological systems and it also has
a long tradition in the philosophy of architecture. A building must satisfy pragmatic
and constructional criteria, which circumscribe the field within which the imagination
of the architect works.269 According to Alan Colquhoun, the definition of the rational
in architecture has not remained constant but depends on changes in ideology, and it
cannot be considered independently of either economic and social factors or philosoph-
ical ideas. It never exists in isolation and it is one side of a complex system that can be
expressed only in terms of a series of more or less homologous oppositions.270
267 Forty 2000, p. 100.

268 Banham 1999 [1960], p. 320.
269 Colquhoun 1994 [1989], p. 57.
270 ...such as reason/feeling, order/disorder, necessity/freedom, universal/particular, and so on. Colquhoun
1994 [1989], pp. 57–58.
67
1.6 THE STRUCTURE OF
T H I S D I S S E R TAT I O N
T
he first Chapter served as an introduction to the study, presenting the background
and the theoretical frame, stating the research problem, making a review of existing
research, and explaining the context, methods, delimitations and the key concepts.
Chapter 2, “Alvar Aalto’s Professional Networks”, focused on the ideological influ-
ences, writings, social networks and professional development of the architect during
the years of Paimio Sanatorium completion, between 1928 and 1933. In this chapter,
Aalto’s writings have been analysed with reflection on the international intellectual
influences that he absorbed, with specific attention paid to thoughts and concepts
regarding technology. Aalto’s writings echoed the influences he adopted and revealed
his personal interpretations thereof. The chapter also explained how Aalto himself dis-
cussed the Paimio Sanatorium project in publicity during its construction. Discussing
the architect’s later interpretations of his design for the sanatorium, were deliberately
avoided, as his ideas may have evolved over the years.
Chapter 3 “The Building of Paimio Sanatorium” concentrated on the construction
of Paimio Sanatorium from the initial architectural competition to its inauguration. At
the time of the realisation of his design, Aalto collaborated with numerous stakeholders,
each with their own motives and interests to guard.271 Besides Aalto himself as a person
who headed the design team and the construction project, the design created by Aalto was
another factor directing the execution process. The design work and the realisation partly
overlapped. Approaching the realisation process from certain ideologically determined
perspectives revealed the intentions of the different stakeholders as well as the perspectives
that mattered the most to the architect. The findings of the empirical research were linked to
Latour’s set of concepts at the end of all four sections in which the processes of design and
construction were discussed. The first section introduced the project organisation, the pro-
cess and the format that the project took. The second section explained how the economic
depression in Finland affected construction and the funding of the sanatorium project. In
the sections focusing on the technological systems, the solutions, designers, contractors,
manufacturers, methods and, most importantly, the critical stages in their interaction at
each given topic were described. In Chapter 4 “Conclusions”, the research question for the
present study study, the findings and the professional significance thereof were discussed. In
the final section, Latour’s key concepts were mobilised.
271 In addition to the Federation of the Municipalities of Southwest Finland, the competition organisers, the architects,
the engineers and the state authorities, there were many other stakeholder groups involved in the construction
stage: building supervisors, medical doctors as specialists representing the state and the user, specialists in differ-
ent engineering disciplines, construction contractors, subcontractors, workers and product suppliers. Each player
contributed to decisions made. As the users of the building, in other words the patients and the staff, were absent
from the design and execution phase, they were represented indirectly by specialists, such as doctors, institutes,
and architects, who made decisions for them.
68
Fig. 2a. The cover page of the CIAM seminar publication Die Wohnung für das
Existenzminimum (The Dwelling for Minimum Existence), Giedion 1930a.
1 2 3 4
Alvar Aalto’s
Professional
Networks
71
A
lvar Aalto joined CIAM in 1929. The establishment of the organisation and
its early years coincided with the design and construction of Paimio. CIAM,
and more importantly CIRPAC,272 CIAM’s preparatory meeting, which had
at least one representative from each member country, opened up a diverse forum for
Aalto to engage in the international discourse at the time when he was working on the
Paimio project. CIAM was an exclusive set; membership could be acquired through
invitation only.273 Le Corbusier and Walter Gropius274 were central figures at CIAM
and in Finland they are generally hailed as the forefathers of modern architecture.275
Gropius gained fame in the Nordic countries as the founder and head of the Bauhaus
art school between 1919 and 1928, and Le Corbusier through his publications and
exhibitions. Furthermore, Gropius and Aalto became good family friends.
Aalto also regarded maintaining good relations with Swedish architects as highly
important from the very beginning of his career.276 Aalto’s relationship with Sven
Markelius, whom he had met in 1926,277 grew closer towards the end of the 1920s.
Markelius was appointed in absentia as Sweden’s representative at CIRPAC in June
1928 at the founding meeting of the organisation held at La Sarraz Castle. In Feb-
ruary 1929, CIAM’s Chairman Karl Moser invited Markelius to propose members
from other Nordic countries. It was thanks to his proposal that Aalto was invited
to become a member.278 Aalto attended two CIAM conferences and at least two
CIRPAC meetings during the Paimio years.279
272 C.I.R.P.A.C. Comité International pour la Réalisation des Problèmes d’Architecture Contemporaine = Internatio-
naler Ausschuß für Neues Bauen = International Committee for the Resolution of Problems in Contemporary
Architecture. Giedion ed. 1931c, p. 210.
273 Le Corbusier, 1964a [1933], p. 187.
274 Walter Gropius (1883–1969) was an ideologist, a strategist, a designing architect and an educator. It is exception-
ally true of Gropius to say that his thinking found true expression through interacting with people, in his architec-
ture and in his writing, and he set great store by cooperation. Research and methodology were also of central
importance to his work. Gropius served as the director of Bauhaus between 1919 and 1929 in Weimar and Dessau,
after which he dedicated his time to housing design and, for example, CIAM.
275 Järventaus 1967, p. 433.
276 Aalto had made his first trip to Sweden in 1920 while still a student. His visits to Sweden became increasingly
frequent and the trip from Turku was even shorter than from Helsinki or Jyväskylä. His friends Gunnar Asplund
and Sven Markelius introduced Aalto around 1926 to a circle of architects who were interested in social and
technological questions in architecture and were aiming to change Sweden into a welfare state. They also had
direct contacts with Bauhaus, the Dutch De Stilj group and Le Corbusier in France. Schildt 1997a, p. 58 and Schildt
1997b, p. 58; Eva Rudberg has also described each individual relationship Aalto had with his Swedish colleagues
in a book Alvar Aalto i Sverige (Alvar Aalto in Sweden). Rudberg 2005.
277 Heporauta 1999, p. 15.
278 Göran Schildt described the process of Aalto gaining membership in CIAM following a suggestion by Markelius. In
addition to Aalto, Markelius also proposed membership for the Danish designer Poul Henningsen. Schildt
1985, p. 60; See also Rudberg 1989a, p. 50.
279 Aalto attended a meeting in Frankfurt am Main on September 25, 1930, preparing for the 1930 Brussels confer-
ence. Heinonen 1978, p. 241; He also included a visit to Zurich in the trip. Alvar Aalto’s letter to Giedion, November
9, 1930. AAM; Aalto attended the “special congress” in Berlin in June 1931. Schildt 1985, p. 71.
72
Chapter 2 | Alvar Aalto's Professional Networks
CIAM demanded that architects had to be able to practise their profession

observing the needs as well as the opportunities of their time. In CIAM’s La Sarraz
founding declaration, the founders expressed their refusal to rely on the methods
of the past and proclaimed the necessity to redefine the concept of architecture to
accommodate the changed ideological and material reality. The progressive archi-
tects recognised the profound impact of the Machine Age in social structures and
the need to respond to the new situation by means of architecture. The members
also called for reform in the training of architects.280 The goal of CIAM was to
actively introduce modern architecture to technological, economic and social deci-
sion-makers.281 CIAM’s representatives were instructed to seek collaboration with
those who adopted the sense of the movement and not to rely exclusively on the
existing architectural associations in their work. CIAM worked towards changing
and challenging old power structures. Exhibitions and writing in trade publications
as much as in the general press were key methods for the members to promote the
movement.282 CIAM had a clear publicity strategy.
CIAM convened for the second time in October 1929 in Frankfurt, followed
by a conference in Brussels in November 1930, and for the fourth time as late as
July–August 1933, by which time Paimio Sanatorium had already been completed,
on the cruise ship Patris II sailing from Marseilles to Athens. In between these
main conferences, CIRPAC convened on a number of occasions. In 1933, when
the political atmosphere in Germany and in the Soviet Union changed, CIAM’s
scope of activity became increasingly restricted. The National Socialist government
in Germany launched its campaign against modern art and architecture,283 and in
1933, the Bauhaus school was closed down.284 The school building, designed by Gro-
pius, was designated to a Nazi party school and a pitched roof was constructed on
top of its original flat roof.285 An exception to the prevailing political situation was
represented by architect Ernst Neufert, who had adopted the rationalist tenets of the
280 See the Declaration of La Sarraz, June 28, 1928. Le Corbusier 1964a [1933]. p. 28.
281 Giedion, the newly appointed secretary of CIAM to the Dutch architect and town planner van Eesteren in a letter
dated June 10, 1928, quoted in Mumford 2002, p. 10.
282 Mumford 2002, pp. 24–27; Le Corbusier 1964a [1933], p. 28.
283 Barbara Miller Lane described how the National Socialist government leveraged the views of those who had been
relegated to the opposition in the recent architectural debate on modern architecture: since new architecture
found support both in capitalist and communist camps, it followed that architects representing the movement
had to be “Bolsheviks” and “cut-throat capitalists”; on the other hand, the sociological and cultural critique of
“industrial” buildings was associated with national and racist architectural theory that was to serve as an apology
for historical architecture. Miller Lane 1985 [1968], pp. 136, p. 141 and p. 145.
284 Modern design was considered among German conservatives as “Bolshevist” and “left-wing”. Bauhaus, the sym-
bol of modern design, became a pawn in political conflict as early as 1924, before its relocation to Dessau. Gropius
adamantly denied from the very beginning that the issue was in any way political. When Gropius resigned as the
Director of Bauhaus Dessau in 1928, he was succeeded by the Swiss architect Hans Meyer, who changed the
teaching content of the school radically in a more industrial direction and was a supporter of communism. He
was dismissed in 1930, and replaced by the German architect Mies van der Rohe. Van der Rohe strived to defuse
the politically charged situation by expelling students who were known to be left-wing. The school was forced
to move from Dessau to Berlin in 1932 under duress from the National Socialists, continuing its operations in the
new location until 1933, when the school was finally closed down. Droste 1991, pp. 113–114, p. 120, pp. 161–163,
pp. 166–167, pp. 204–209 and pp. 227–236.
285 Mumford 2002, p. 76.
73
Bauhaus school and who was still able to continue his career despite changes both
in the political climate during the Nazi regime and in postwar West Germany.286 In
the Soviet Union, Josif Stalin came to power and raised neo-classical architecture
as the new ideal. Through such measures, Germany and the Soviet Union effectively
politicised architectural expressions.
Incidentally, the completion of Paimio Sanatorium coincided with the end of the
era conducive to rationalist architecture in the wider international context. Yet it
must be pointed out that, in the Finnish context, modern architecture was never
associated with political meanings to the degree that was the case in Germany and
the Soviet Union. Modernism was, however, linked with left-wing sympathies even
in Finland, as witnessed by an incident between architect Bertel Jung and Aalto at
the Nordic Building Forum in 1932.287 Jung had taken a cautiously positive view on
Modernism two years earlier in his comment entitled “Functionalismi” (Function-
alism), published in Arkkitehti (The Finnish Architectural Journal).288 This would
indicate that Jung’s view on architecture became more politicised during the early
1930s. Jung enjoyed an established position and to mark his 60th birthday in July 1932,
Arkkitehti published a short article praising his life’s work particularly in the field of
town planning, immediately after the episode at the Nordic Building Forum.289 The
editorial desk at Arkkitehti strived to strike a balance between the traditional and the
modern and to avoid politicising architecture. Therefore, to counterbalance its earlier
support shown for Jung, it published an article on urban development in the Soviet
Union in its next December issue, written by Hans Schmidt,290 who was Aalto’s
friend and had visited Helsinki in the autumn of 1932.291 Schmidt was at that time
the Director of the Moscow town planning offices in the Soviet Union.
I have analysed the talks292 given by CIAM’s two main ideologists, Le Corbusier
and Walter Gropius at CIAM conferences in Frankfurt and Brussels alongside Aalto’s
correspondence with the Sigfried Giedion, the General Secretary of CIAM. Giedion
never gave his own talks at CIAM conferences, but delivered Walter Gropius’ papers,
edited the conference publications and published articles on CIAM’s activities in
many other publications.293 The talks have been analysed as published in the seminar
286 His book Bauentwurfslehre (Architect’s Data), which for decades became a handbook for architects all over
the world, was first published in Germany in 1936. There is a summary on Neufert’s career in the first pages.
Neufert 1980 [1936].
287 The issue was discussed by the Board of the Finnish Association of Architects and the association’s court of
honour. A reconciliation between the two was mediated by architect Carolus Lindberg. Schildt 1985, pp. 85–88.
288 Jung 1930, p. 59.
289 Brunila 1932, p. 25.
290 Schildt 1985, pp. 87–88.
291 Schmidt 1932, pp. 191–194.
292 Aalto did not hear the talks on the outward journey, and only participated in the meeting on the return trip. I have
assumed that the talks referred to were discussed during the return trip.
293 Giedion’s articles were published at least in the German Bauwelt (The Building Magazine) in addition through
other channels that CIAM regularly used. Giedion also published books other than those related to CIAM’s
activities, including Befreites Wohnen (Freed Dwelling), Giedion 1929, which was published shortly before the
Frankfurt conference.
74
publication of the conference. The Athens conference was held after Paimio Sanatorium
had been completed, for which reason its role has been given secondary importance in
the present analysis. I have, however, included a discussion of the Athens conference,
because, firstly, it reflects the tense political atmosphere of the time, and secondly, I
wanted to point out Aalto’s approach to the situation. Although Aalto only attended
the Frankfurt conference and part of the conference on-board Patris II, in addition to
the CIRPAC meeting in Berlin in 1931, he received information through discussions,
correspondence and publications. CIAM’s main languages of communication were
German and French. The speakers held their talks in either language.294 In addition
to his first languages Swedish and Finnish, Aalto was also fluent in German, but
by all accounts his French295 was quite poor, which may have affected his choice of
personal contacts and which presentations he was able to understand.
This Chapter discusses Aalto’s interaction with his peers during the sanatorium
project and it has been organised by themes that were central to Aalto.
294 The researcher has no knowledge of whether the talks were interpreted. Both in the Frankfurt and Brussels
conference publications, some of the texts were translated into English.
295 Aalto had taken only a few courses in French at school. He read Le Corbusier in German. See Schildt 1985, p. 57
and p. 62.
75
2 .1 A A LT O ’ S L I T E R A R Y O U T P U T
A
alto was a prolific writer even before CIAM’s mandate. The articles of his that
were included in the present study were selected based on their publication date
and information content. In each of the selected articles, Aalto discussed the
interface between architecture and technology from a different angle. Some of the articles
have helped form a picture of his career and ideas in the years of the Paimio project. The
project presentations published in Arkkitehti (The Finnish Architectural Journal) that he
himself wrote, introducing all his designs from his Turku period were also included in this
study. The volume Alvar Aalto in his Own Words, edited by Göran Schildt, and more spe-
cifically the articles he selected for the chapter “The Rationalist Utopia”, have served as a
key guide in the the selection of relevant articles for closer study. 296 The original texts have
also been used and referred to as sources. The first of the articles, “Uusimmista virtauksista
rakennustaiteen alalla” (The Latest Trends in Architecture) was published on New Year’s
Day 1928, in a Turku newspaper Uusi Aura (The New Dawn). In the present study, this
article represented Aalto’s career in the period before his CIAM memberships and is phil-
osophical in its approach. The second article, “Asuntomme probleemina” (The Dwelling as
a Design Problem),297 which was published in 1930 in Domus magazine, was thematically
linked with the 1929 CIAM conference Die Wohnung für das Existenzminimum (The
Dwelling for Minimum Existence), the 1930 exhibition in Stockholm and the Minimum
Apartment Exhibition curated by Alvar Aalto and Aino Marsio-Aalto in Helsinki in 1930.
The focus of the article was on the home and the central theme was standardisation. In
1932, Sven Markelius invited Aalto to write an article for a special Arkitektur och samhälle
(Architecture and Society) issue of the Spektrum magazine, which he edited together with
Uno Åhrén. Aalto’s article “Bostadsfrågans geografi” (The Geography of the Housing
Problem) discussed technological systems in the context of town planning. The project
descriptions on Paimio Sanatorium published in Byggmästaren (The Master Builder), Ark-
kitehti and the publication Varsinais-Suomen tuberkuloosiparantola (Southwestern Finland
Tuberculosis Sanatorium) revealed how the architect wished to present the building to his
peers. Observations on the evolution of Aalto’s thought processes, the ideas expressed by
the writings and the way their writer justified these ideas, were made. The concepts he used
were focused, and how he considered them in relation to the conference talks given by Le
Corbusier and Gropius. A further point of interest were the communicative strategies that
Aalto employed in the three articles on Paimio Sanatorium, which were studied by ana-
lysing the target audience, illustrations and the combined impact of the imagery and text.
296 Schildt wrote an introduction to each chapter as well as individual article, shedding light on his own reading of the
texts. The introductions debate, among other things, at whom the articles were targeted. Schildt also provided
valuable insight into Aalto’s exceptional methods: he might, for example, use the format of an interview in which
he wrote both the questions and the answers. Schildt 1997a, p. 58, and Schildt 1997b, p. 58.
297 In my opinion, Schildt’s translation, (The Housing Problem), of the original title “Asuntomme probleemina” is not
accurate, as the article focuses on only a single apartment and its design. I have translated it as “The Dwelling as
a Design Problem”.
76
Fig. 2.1a. A page of Aalto’s article “Rationel biograf”
(Rational Cinema), was published in the Danish Kritisk Revy
(The Critical Journal). Aalto’s diagram of sound absorbing
wallpanels shows the reflections of sound waves. Aalto
1928d, p. 67.
77
With reference to international influences, the talks given by Gropius and Le
Corbusier at the Frankfurt and Brussels seminars were analysed as well as the con-
tent of the exhibitions organised in conjunction with the seminars, as based on the
original seminar publications.298 I used Erich Mumford’s The CIAM Disclosure on
Urbanism 1928–1960 as an introduction to the history of CIAM. I have also studied,
as additional background material, a number of works and articles published by Le
Corbusier, Walter Gropius and Sigfried Giedion, restricting my selection of material
to those that Aalto was familiar with. Aalto’s correspondence provided me with a
deeper understanding of his relationship with certain people, such as Sigfried Gie-
dion and Sven Markelius. Elected the General Secretary of CIAM in 1929, Sigfried
Giedion was responsible for communication with CIRPAC. The communication
mainly took place through circular letters. Giedion appears to have been highly
proactive in fulfilling his role under the CIAM mandate. Correspondence between
Aalto and Giedion was at its most prolific between 1930 and 1932.299 Eva Rudberg’s
monographs on Sven Markelius and Uno Åhrén guided me to the central literary
output of the two Swedish CIAM representatives and opinion-leaders.300 Regarding
Aalto’s contacts with his Swedish peers, the focus in the present study was on the
relationship between Aalto and Markelius.
298 Here, I am referring specifically to the 1929 and 1930 CIAM conference publications. See Giedion 1930a and 1931c.
299 The messages sent by Giedion to Aalto have survived and are included in Aalto’s letter collection; the oldest of
Giedion’s letters dates back to summer 1930. AAM.
300 Mumford 2002, pp. 61–62.
78
2.2 THE SPHERE OF
AVANT-GARDIST INFLUENCES
A
lvar Aalto and Aino Marsio-Aalto’s family and office moved from Jyväskylä
to Turku in 1927. At that time, Turku was a dynamic, cultured city where peo-
ple experienced and interpreted the new modern in many different ways.301
Renja Suominen-Kokkonen has described the architect couple’s relocation as an
intellectual journey into the sphere of genuinely significant avant-gardist architects.302
Aalto had already earlier become friends with the Turku-based colleague Erik
Bryggman, who had engaged himself in the architectural discourse of Germany
and France and accumulated a collection of topical publications.303 Bryggman
visited the Weissenhof Exhibition, which was part of the Die Wohnung Exhi-
bition, organised by the German Werkbund together with the City of Stuttgart,
and familiarised himself with Bauhaus together with architect Ilmari Ahonen in
1928.304 The programme of Deutscher Werkbund and Hermann Muthesius had
become familiar for Finns through Heinrich Tessenow’s book from 1916, Hausbau
und Dergleichen (House Building and Such Things). Erik Bryggman was one of the
conductors and interpreters of Tessenow’s ideas. In the 1920s, Finnish professionals
also absorbed ideas from Italy, and German influences were not adopted directly as
such.305 Aalto’s library also included several international publications, such as Bau
und Wohnung (Building and Dwelling), the exhibition catalogue of the Weissen-
hof Siedlung exhibition;306 Innenräume (Interiors), which introduced the interiors,
furniture and light fittings featured in the exhibition; and the German-language
edition of Le Corbusier’s Vers une Architecture, Der kommende Baukunst. Aalto
probably acquired the latter publication in 1926 after having been introduced to
Le Corbusier’s ideas through Sven Markelius.307 Further evidence supporting this
timing is Aalto’s article “Porraskiveltä arkihuoneeseen” (From the Stairway to the
Living Room), which was published in Aitta (Granary) magazine in 1926 and
shows clear influences adopted from Le Corbusier.308
301 See e.g. Mäkikalli and Grägg 2004, pp. 8–9.

302 Suominen-Kokkonen 2004, pp. 84–106.
303 Soiri-Snellman 2010, p. 63 and p. 68.
304 Suominen-Kokkonen 2007, pp. 68–69; Heinonen 1978, p. 96.
305 Heinonen 1986, pp. 50–53.
306 Held in 1927, the exhibition featured 31 permanent homes, designed by 17 architects from five different countries.
The designers included Walter Gropius, Hans Scharoun and Peter Behrens as members of the German Werkbund
as well as Le Corbusier, Pierre Jeanneret, J.J. P. Oud and Mart Stam. Joedicke ed. 1992 [1927]; Gold 1997, pp. 53–56.
307 Aalto met Sven Markelius in 1926. Suominen-Kokkonen 2007, p. 68.
308 Aalto 1926; Heinonen 1986, p. 277; See also Schildt 1997a, pp. 50–55, particularly p. 52, and Schildt 1997b, pp.
50–55, particularly p. 52.
79
Fig. 2.2a. Villa Stein-de Monzie in Vancresson designed by Le Corbusier and Pierre
Jeanneret and built 1926–1927. Photographer Aino Aalto, 1928. Photo No. 106600. AAM.
Bau und Wohnung included Le Corbusier’s German-language article “Fünf Punkte

auf einer Neuen Architektur” (Five Points of New Architecture), which introduced
the architectural and structural principles of his exhibition buildings Nos. 13 and 14:
the columns, roof gardens, open plan spaces, the ribbon window and curtain walls.309
Gropius’ article was at least equally interesting. “Wege zur Fabrikatorischen Hausher-
stellung” (Ways to Industrial House Production) introduced building No. 16, which
had been built using a semi-dry method, and building No. 17 which had been built
using the fully dry method purely by installing prefabricated elements.310 The special
value of these articles lies in their practical approach, discussing real buildings, instead
of focusing purely on theory. The illustrations include high-quality photographs both
from the inside and the outside and clearly presented drawings. In my understanding,
it was precisely this type of high-standard material that guided Aalto’s theory forma-
tion and work.
309 Le Corbusier 1992 [1927], pp. 27–37.

310 Walter Gropius explained the principles of prefabricated houses in conjunction with the buildings he designed
for the Weissenhof Siedlung exhibition. The house installed using the dry method was constructed in situ without
any casting work. With a semi-dry method, Gropius referred to a method in which some of the construction work,
mainly casting, was carried out in situ. Gropius 1992 [1927], pp. 59–67.
80
Fig. 2.2b. Alvar Aalto, Sven Markelius’ wife Viola Wahlstedt, Sven Markelius and an unknown
person. Photo No. 106265. AAM.
The exhibition publication Innenräume, introducing the interiors featured in the

Weissenhof Siedlung Exhibition, includes a picture supplement of more than a hun-
dred pages, in which the interiors have been grouped into series, illustrating types of
spaces and furnishings as well as light fittings. The second part, consisting of short
articles, begins with Le Corbusier’s article “Die Innenausstellung unserer Häuser am
Weissenhof ” (Our Houses at Weissenhof ). He asks, “Was heisst Möblierung?”(What
is Furnishing?) Le Corbusier called for more functional and inexpensive furniture and
spoke in favour of standardisation. For example, by combining standard-size tables,
even a small flat could accommodate a large dining table, when necessary. Chairs and
the new concepts of seating were clearly of great interest to Le Corbusier. In his opin-
ion he was able to improve the furnishability of the experimental houses he designed
by using pocket doors and integrated cupboards. The Stuttgart Exhibition represented
a continuation of the themes that Le Corbusier had exhibited at his 1925 Pavillon de
l’Esprit Nouveau in Paris. He felt that the innovation in furniture design was primarily
founded on a new spirit and shared optimism, and only then on handmade prototypes,
followed by industrial production.311
311 Le Corbusier 1928a, pp. 122–125.
81
Aalto studied the Bauhaus school initially through publications and experiences
recounted by his friends. The objective of the school was to bridge the gap between
different disciplines of visual arts and industrial production methods. Established in
1919, the slogan of the school was initially “art and craft”, changed in 1922 into “art into
industry”. Bauhaus wanted to develop housing in a way appropriate to the times, its
scale ranging from simple household items to a complete house. The school adopted the
method of systematic experiments on form, technology and economics. Architecture
gained an increasingly central role in the school’s teaching in the wake of the establish-
ment of its architecture department in 1927. It was first headed by the Swiss architect
Hannes Meyer, who also served as the Director of the school. Under the leadership
of the openly left-wing Meyer (1927–1930), the teaching became politicised and he
was eventually dismissed from his post.312 His successor, Mies van der Rohe, strived to
relieve the pressures created by the increasingly tense political climate in Germany and
to develop Bauhaus as a politically neutral school of architecture and applied arts.313
Some of the ideas of Bauhaus were conveyed to Aalto by László Moholy-Nagy, who
taught at the school, was a close collaborator of Gropius and visited the Aaltos in
Finland with his partner during their trip to the Nordic countries in summer 1931.314
Bauhausbücher, the Bauhaus book series, discussing artistic, social and scientific
issues from topical perspectives, began to be published in 1925.315 The first volume
to be published was Walter Gropius’ Internationale Architektur (International Archi-
tecture). According to Gropius, new architecture was about combining architecture
and technology and about penetrating to the very essence of phenomena. Designs,
whether for a piece of furniture or an entire house, had to be functional. In his view,
examining the problematics of a building was always linked with mechanics, stat-
ics, optics, acoustics and the world of interrelations. For him, matter and structure
embodied interrelations in the way that the designer had intended. The aim of mod-
ern architecture, as far as Gropius was concerned, was to move away from personal
and national towards objectivity.316
The books included a magnificent series of images on topical architecture from
one-family homes to cities. The main focus was on residential buildings (42), facto-
ries (20) and offices (12). The designs for blocks of flats incorporated the ideal of social
responsibility. The frame designed by Marcel Breuer, introduced in Internationale
Architektur, was in terms of basic structural concept and rhythm reminiscent of the
frame of A wing at Paimio Sanatorium.317 The featured one-family houses included
homes for the wealthy as well as studies on houses that could be serially produced. The
312 Droste 1991, pp. 190 and 196–200.

313 Droste 1991, pp. 204–238.
314 Göran Schildt has described Moholy-Nagy’s and Aalto’s friendhip. Schildt 1985, pp. 70–78.
315 Hahn 1981 [1925], p. II.
316 Gropius 1981 [1925], p. 7.
317 The projects had such titles as "Entwurf zu einem Miethausblock", "Entwurf zu einem Grossen Miethaus" or "Mo-
dell zu einem Etagenhaus für Kleinwohnungen" (Sketch for an Apartment Building; Sketch for a Large Apartment
Building; or Model for a Block of Flats). Gropius 1981 [1925], especially p. 90.
82
captions were short, and typically listed the materials used. Reinforced concrete was
the dominant material in the featured buildings.318 The images in the book included
photographs of completed projects as well as models and drawings. The photographs
usually showed a general view, the front façade of the building, the building from an
angle, a street view or even an aerial view.319 Some images highlighted the concrete
structure.320 Gropius’ Master’s Houses and Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret’s Pessac
housing development were photographed from a completely new, low angle that drew
attention to the experience of an individual.321 In addition to photographs, the images
included axonometric, elevation and perspective drawings. Some of the projects illus-
trated had not been completed.322
Gropius’ choice of images showed that he placed great importance on unfinished
projects as being indicative of the direction of development. By juxtaposing photographs
and drawings, unrealised projects began to seem more real in the mind of the reader.
Internationale Architektur was forward-looking and did not merely settle on reporting
past development. The typology of the featured buildings also revealed what type of
functions Gropius considered topical. Housing was the most important theme, and
the selection of works highly international. The dominant building material, reinforced
concrete, was at the core of the book’s message.
In the architectural view held by Bauhaus, rationality was linked with the material side
of architecture, its structuralism and pursuit of economical solutions. Gropius maintained,
however, that the task of architecture was also to give aesthetic pleasure to the human soul.
For him, the new method of building allowed for a new kind of spatial thinking. While
construction was a question of method and materials, architecture was spatial art.323
Aalto’s reportage “Uusimmista virtauksista rakennustaiteen alalla” (On the Latest
Trends in the Field of Architecture)324 was published on New Year’s Day 1928 in the
most widely distributed newspaper of Southwest Finland, Uusi Aura (The New Dawn),
which was an organ of the National Coalition Party. Aalto’s aim with the article was
to demonstrate to people of influence in Turku his stature, level of knowledge and
international contacts. In 1928, the economic outlook was still positive and there was
optimism and expectation in the air. The article was built on clever, emotionally charged
318 The steel structure is mentioned for 17 and glass for 13 images. Brick was used in load-bearing structures in at
least 13 projects, while only one had a timber frame. At least two projects had a hybrid frame combining several
materials. Gropius 1981 [1925].
319 The books show aerial photographs the Bauhaus Building in Dessau, Fiat factory in Turin, wooden market stalls
designed for Moscow by K.S. Melnikov and Manhattan Island. Gropius 1981 [1925].
320 These included, among others, images of Freysinnet’s airship hangar and E. Norwert’s power plant in Moscow.
Large interior spaces and their arches were also featured in the photographs, including P. Berlage’s Amsterdam
Stock Exchange, Brothers Perret’s H. Esders atelier in Paris, and Bruno Taut’s carrle auction hall in Magdeburg.
Gropius 1981 [1925].
321 Gropius 1981 [1925], p. 63 and p. 84.
322 Gropius 1981 [1925].
323 The New Architecture and the Bauhaus by Gropius sheds light on the reasons for establishing Bauhaus and the
fundaments of its approach to teaching. It was published in English originally as early as in 1935. Gropius 1998
[1935], p. 24.
324 Aalto 1928a, p. 11.
83
juxtaposition of text and images, which was likely to arouse interest in new architecture
as well as the writer of the article himself – Aalto’s intention was to stand out to his
advantage and win new customers. Aalto masked the article as an interview with a busy
architect of high professional calibre explaining key questions of modern architecture.
Aalto used the dialogue between traditional and new realism as an effect that cre-
ated intriguing tension and symbolised this with the image of scales. In the illustration
used for the article, he likened classical columns to the products of the Machine Age.
Representatives of the new “sober European architecture” included his own design
for the Vyborg Library, Gunnar Asplund’s design for the Stockholm Public Library,
which was under construction at the time, and Erik Bryggman’s Atrium Apartment
Building in Turku. Images of a turbine and the bomber Goliath were borrowed from
Le Corbusier’s work Vers Une Architecture. Aalto included in his illustrations only
examples that he considered to hold merit – his style was provocative, but always
positive. “New realism” represented Zeitgeist and a typology-generating process for
Aalto. He also spoke about "neo-monumentalism" when introducing Bryggman’s
work, although he refrained from explaining the term. He understood architecture as
a process, a dynamic movement. New form required new content.
Structure could also prove to be an architectural challenge that invited the designer
to create a new form, type or concept, even if the building was for a traditional use. In
his view, Modern art, however, was only possible once both the function and social con-
tent are new. The article also contained a moral message: a socially and technologically
progressive environment offered the biggest potential for architecture that expressed
the essence of the period. Aalto understood “industrialism” as cultural change and an
inevitable development path, and expected it to take the position of a harmonious cul-
tural factor. According to Aalto, architecture should be constant with the times. From
a European perspective, Vers Une Architecture was no longer a new publication in 1928,
when Aalto published his own article reflecting on the thoughts and mode of commu-
nication adopted by Le Corbusier, but in Finland, the aspects as discussed by Aalto
were still interesting to the general public.
84
2 . 3 “ M Y L AT E S T B U I L D I N G S W I L L B E
B U I LT E X C L U S I V E LY F R O M C O N C R E T E ”
T
he quotation in the heading is from Aalto’s interview for the Sisä-Suomi (Inner
Finland) newspaper, which the architect had edited himself.325 Alvar Aalto
was successful in architectural competitions in the late 1920s and, as a result
Turku became the main geographical focus of his work and concrete one of the central
challenges in all his projects. As a break of the past years, the main material of his new
building designs at the time was reinforced concrete. Aalto’s career experienced a new
boost when he won the architectural competition for Southwest Finland Agricultural
Cooperative Building in spring 1927 and for Vyborg City Library at the end of the same
year.326 Alongside his competition work, in November 1927Aalto was also commissioned
by factory owner Juho Tapani to design an apartment building in Turku.327 In 1928 he
got a commission from a local newspaper owner Arvo Ketonen to design the Turun
Sanomat Newspaper Building. The Aaltos understood that they had an unprecedented
opportunity to apply their avant-gardist views in these projects. Adopting new expression
and an innovative method of execution took courage, which the architects Aino and Alvar
bolstered by familiarising themselves with topical buildings built on the Continent.
In early summer 1928, the Aaltos made a long study trip to Denmark, the Nether-
lands and France. On their trip, they met Poul Henningsen, Alfred Roth, Le Corbus-
ier328, André Lurçat and Johannes Duiker.329 They studied topical buildings, such as
the Zonnestraal Sanatorium in Hilversum,330 completed in the same year. In Paris the
couple was hosted by the French Modernist André Lurçat. Their visit was timed only
days before the CIAM founding meeting, which was attended by both Le Corbusier
and Lurçat.331 They likely had the opportunity to visit La Villa Seurat artist community,
designed by Lurçat and consisting of Modernist, three-storey private homes built along
a cul-de-sac in Paris.332 Since one of the houses was designed by Lurçat for his brother,
one may assume that he had a personal relationship with the customers in the community,
and the Aaltos would probably have been allowed to see the inside of some of the houses
as well. Amédée Ozenfant’s studio (1922–1924), designed by Le Corbusier, is located
close to the La Villa Seurat, and a visit there was probably part the day’s programme.
325 Aalto 1928c, p. 3.

326 Simo Paavilainen and Kristiina Nivari have described the different sketching stages of the Vyborg City Library in their
articles. The building of the library was delayed by several years, being eventually built on the basis of a master drawing
dated as late as 1933. The design of the Vyborg City Library took place, in other words, after the completion of Paimio
Sanatorium and is therefore excluded from the present discussion. Paavilainen 1990, pp. 9–18; Nivari 1990, pp. 19–34.
327 Aalto 1929d, pp. 96–97.
328 According to Renja Suominen-Kokkonen, the Aaltos may have met Le Corbusier in Paris in June 1928, unlike
Schildt had previously asserted. Suominen-Kokkonen 2007, pp. 70–71.
329 Heporauta 1999, p. 18.
330 Heinonen 1986, p. 239–240.
331 Schildt 1985, p. 55 and p. 58.
332 Maison Jean Lurçat (1924–1925), Maison Goerg et Gromaire (1925), Maison Pierre Bertrand (1925), Maison Ma-
dame Bertrand (1925), Maison Quillé (1925), Maison Townshend (1926), Maison Arnold Huggler (1926) are de-
signed André Lurçat. Cohen 1995, pp. 30–40 and 287.
85
Fig. 2.3a. Aalto applied all the five points of new architecture defined by Le Corbusier to his design of the
Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building. Photographer Gustaf Welin, around 1929. Photo No. 62-005-040. AAM.
Fig. 2.3b. Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building roof terrace. Photographer Gustaf Welin, around 1929.
Photo No. 62-005-083. AAM.
86
Fig. 2.3c. Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building printing hall and its asymmetrical columns. Photographer
Gustaf Welin, around 1929. Photo No. 62-005-103. AAM.
Fig. 2.3d. Casting the beamless reinforced concrete ceiling of the Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building. TS.
87
Alvar Aalto and Aino Marsio-Aalto visited the interior of Villa Jeanneret-Raaf (1923–
1925) and saw Villa La Roche from the outside.333 Aino Marsio-Aalto took photographs
of Villa Stein De Monzie (1927–1928), which they also visited.334 In Paris, the Aaltos
met Le Corbusier.335 Aalto also saw Lurçat’s sketches of a hotel he had designed for the
Mediterranean coast, and its asymmetrical windows made such an impression on Aalto
that he reiterated the idea in his competition entry for Paimio Sanatorium.336
Renja Suominen-Kokkonen has emphasised the influence of the trip to Paris and
Le Corbusier’s work on the design of Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building.337 The
master drawings of the Turku project were completed in October 1928 immediately
after the trip, but the building permit was issued only in late April 1929. Since the
building was technically extremely modern, it may be assumed that the authorities
required structural calculations before granting the permit. These calculations are not,
however, housed in the city archives.338
The 700th Anniversary Exhibition of the City of Turku, designed jointly by Alvar
Aalto and Erik Bryggman, was open to the public in 1929 for one week only.339 Other
Turku projects were completed in rapid succession and Aalto presented the Southwest
Finland Agricultural Cooperative and the Standard Apartment Building as well as the
Turku 700th Anniversary Exhibition design in Arkkitehti (The Finnish Architectural
Journal) in summer 1929.340
Aalto expressed regret in the project description for the Southwest Finland Agricul-
tural Cooperative Building that the internal “heterogeneity” impeded his design work,
as the theatre hall was also to be used as a conference space. The dilemma troubled the
architect, as he could not clearly define the design problem. Aalto recounted that he
designed the interiors only for some of the spaces. He introduced his team,341 the most
important contractors and the building material manufacturers,342 but left, for example,
the structural engineer Emil Henriksson uncredited. Henriksson had drawn up the
structural design for the Agricultural Cooperative in July–December 1927, partly over-
lapping with the design of the master drawings.343 Aalto reported having used as many
standard parts in the interior as possible and having designed a few standard pieces in
the course of the work, including the letter and advertisement system, the lit concrete
333 Suominen–Kokkonen 2007, pp. 70–71.

334 See e.g. Schildt 1985, pp. 57.
336 Cohen 1995, pp. 112–113; Schildt 1986, p. 57.
338 Building permit documents. Archive reference VI-4-4. TKA.
339 The exhibition was open June 15–23, 1929. Soiri-Snellman 2010, pp. 66–67.
340 See Aalto 1929a, Aalto 1929d and Aalto 1929c.
341 At Aalto’s office, the design work was contributed to Aino Marsio-Aalto, Harald Wildhagen, Erling Bjertnæs, Kerttu
Tamminen, Erkki Beckström and Totti Strömberg. Aalto 1929a, pp. 83–88.
342 The main contractor was Juho Tapani and the site supervisor was master builder Axel Löfström. The windows and
doors were made of the Dutch Crittal-Braat steel profiles with bronze fittings and with partly single, partly double
glazing. The buildings were installed with light fittings by Poul Henningsen as well as by light fittings from the Taito,
Kaune and Koristamo factories. The restaurant interiors were partly manufactured by Huonekalu- ja Puutyötehdas
in Turku. Aalto 1929a, pp. 83–88.
343 Building permit documents for the Southwest Finland Agricultural Cooperative. Archive Reference VII-20-4. TKA.
88
Fig. 2.3e. Standard Apartment Building. Photographer Aino Marsio-Aalto, 1928. Photo No. 82-001-
003. AAM.
Fig. 2.3f. Southwest Finland Agricultural Cooperative Building. Photographer Gustaf Welin, 1928. Photo No.
46-008-022. AAM.
89
stairs, a handrail detail, corridor lighting, a café table and a door handle.344 Aalto’s
holistic approach shows Continental influences.
In the project description of the Standard Apartment Building345 Aalto reported
having been commissioned by a Turku based businessman and innovator Juho Tapani
to investigate the feasibility of the patented Tapani concrete slab in the construction of
the standard apartment house.346 There was a great deal of scepticism with regard to
the use of concrete structures in building. It was feared that they made for humid and
cold buildings. The inventor was compelled to build an apartment building himself to
be able to prove the feasibility of his system.347
The technologically innovative building frame was based on Tapani’s patented con-
crete brick and intermediate floor slabs.348 Presumably, the hollow concrete brick used
in the load-bearing vertical structures was the same one that Juho Tapani patented in
1931.349 These load-bearing walls also served as ventilation ducts and risers for piping.
Aalto described how sound insulation had been achieved using cork, and emphasised
the method of breaking up the design tasks into smaller sub-projects as prescribed by
his new design method: “The dampening of the echo has been approached as a separate
function, as is natural in the case of a concrete building.”350
The architect chose the apartment as his basic unit in the floor plan and aimed to
develop the unit of one or several rooms into a standard that could be repeated. He
placed the bedroom on the sunny side of the building and assigned the central part of
the dwelling as a shared family space. The larger flats had a room for the maid, which was
still in line with the social order of the time. One of the flats in the Standard Apartment
Building was finished and decorated as a showroom for the Turku Fair. Aalto described
it as a design experiment with the purpose of showing that decorating and furnishing a
home need not be costly. Aalto also introduced his team and the foreman Väinö Tähtinen
in his article.351 Tähtinen became later one of the clerk of works at the Paimio Sanatorium
building site.
The Standard Apartment Building, which was owned and built by Tapani and whose
structures were scaled by Henriksson, has a load-bearing frame that was completely
344 Aalto 1929a, pp. 83–88.

345 Aalto 1929d, pp. 96–97.
346 Juho Tapani was an inventor who had patented reinforced concrete structures and related structural systems
mainly in the early 1910s, including the Finnish Patents of a concrete bridge No. FI6911, a reinforced concrete
loading vessel No. FI1501, a reinforced concrete oven No. FI4962, a concrete door or window frame No. FI4906,
a concrete building slab No. FI4775, an additional Patent to the latter No. FI4775, a concrete brick No. FI14093,
and a reinforced concrete roof No. FI4992. Patent documents. NA.
347 The first apartment house was in Horttokuja 1. Later projects included Maariankatu 12 and Aurakatu 22, which was
the largest apartment building in Turku in the 1920s. The latter two projects were housing companies established
by Tapani in his role as a developer. Kankaanpää 1997, p. 71.
348 Aalto 1929d, pp. 96–97.
349 Concrete brick patent No. FI14093 was issued in 1931, while the other patents for Tapani’s designs were issued much
earlier. Many of the patents carried the name Tapani: Tapani bridge, Tapani reinforced concrete vessel, Tapani oven etc.
Patent documents. NA.
350 Aalto 1929d, pp. 96–97.
351 The construction work was carried out by master builder Väinö Tähtinen, paid for by Juho Tapani. In addition to
Aalto, the work and its management were participated by Aino Marsio-Aalto, Harald Wildhagen and Erkki Back-
ström. Aalto 1929d, pp. 96–97.
90
Fig. 2.3g. The huge auditorium with a flat ceiling of the Southwest Finland Agricultural Cooperative
Building. Photographer Gustaf Welin, 1928. Photo No. 46-008-046. AAM.
Fig. 2.3h. The Roof truss structures of the auditorium of the Southwest Finland Agricultural Cooperative Building
made the flat ceiling possible. Emil Henriksson’s structural drawing. The drawing has been edited. TKA.
91
separate from the heat-insulating structure. The load-bearing transverse partition walls
were made of prefabricated Tapani slabs, which supported the longitudinal interme-
diate floor beams. The external wall only served the function of heat insulation. Aalto
wrote in Rakennustaito (The Finnish Construction Magazine ): “The façade of the
building, a light-weight wall supported entirely by beams, is to be completed only after
the building has been waterproofed with the roof. Part of the façade is formed by the
outer beam on each floor, while the remaining sections beneath the windows are made
of cored brick laid on top of the beam. This means that the question of heat insulation
on the external wall is treated completely separately from the load-bearing question.
It was treated merely as a matter of insulation. The insulation of the external wall was
partly based on the air contained in the cored tiles and the expanded cork covering the
whole of the inner surface of the external wall.”352
The innovators of concrete bricks had long been trying to resolve the question of
load-bearing, heat-insulation and waterproofing with one single structure. Achieving
an adequate level of heat-insulation had proved a difficult challenge. Aalto’s solution
for the Standard Apartment Building, which he developed together with Henriksson,
was based on a completely different approach. He treated the functions of insulation
and load-bearing as separate, from which it followed that the thermal conductivity of
reinforced concrete no longer presented a problem. In terms of the material qualities,
the Standard Apartment Building is all but optimal.353 The structure of the Tapani
concrete slab was designed to prevent the conduction of heat from the inside to the out-
side. Since the load-bearing structure in the Standard Apartment Building remained
mainly inside the frame, its only function was to stand as the supporting structure
and its conductivity qualities became irrelevant. As Finnish historian Jari Kankaanpää
pointed out, the Standard Apartment House put an end to the Tapani concrete slab in
the design-philosophical sense.354
The name of the building project was a rhetorical statement from Aalto, who used the
title to emphasise the modern building typology and topical international architectural
ideology it represented. He also probably wanted to avoid the use of the “Tapani” epi-
thet. Discussing the aspects of standardisation, construction technology and acoustics
showed how central the technological questions were from the point of view of design.
Juho Tapani hired Aalto as the designer because he believed Aalto to be a person quali-
fied to resolve technology issues but also to explain them to the public. This strategy was
crucial for Tapani, as the success of his Tapani bricks and their popularity as a building
material had crumbled because of their poor heat insulation qualities. He was, in other
words, keen to boost the sales of his own products. However, Aalto resolved the struc-
tural problem of the Standard Apartment Building by separating the load-bearing and
insulating structures, which meant that the improved insulation qualities of the Tapani
352 Aalto 1928b, p. 76.

353 Kankaanpää 1997, p. 80.
354 Kankaanpää 1997, pp. 80–81.
92
Fig. 2.3i. The Aaltos organised a showcase apartment from the Standard Apartment Building
as part of the Turku Fair. They aimed to furnish the apartment with serially produced furniture
at as low a cost as possible. The floor plan of the exhibition apartment. Drawing No. 82-14. The
drawing has been edited. AAM.
93
brick were now redundant as the product was used merely for load-bearing structures.
Aalto did, however, make use of the cavities inside the bricks for pipes to legitimise the
use of the product. In the case of Standard Apartment Building, Aalto was not, in other
words, loyal to the commercial pursuits of his customer, giving priority to solving the
structural question and following his own ambitions. It is obvious that this damaged
the relationship between Juho Tapani and Alvar Aalto. Although Emil Henriksson
served as the structural engineer in the Standard Apartment Building project, Aalto
never credited him as a member of his team in the project description in Arkkitehti
(The Finnish Architectural Journal). Such selective use of information bolstered Aalto’s
image as an expert in concrete structures. These roles became evident from the building
permit documents, which did not include structural drawings.355
The industrial art trade show, Suomen Messut (Finnish Fair), continued the series of
events to mark Turku’s 700th anniversary in 1929. Aalto wrote that the designers, Erik
Bryggman and himself, had mainly aimed to develop a building system that would be
both economical and individual. Aalto compared the trade fair structures to row houses,
explaining that as many stands as necessary could be added. The contract offers had, accord-
ing to the architect, been requested for a running metre of structural units. In Aalto’s view,
organising the actual trade show was a simple matter of assembling prefabricated elements.
The architect’s task was to design the overall composition for the space. He praised the cost
savings afforded by the use of standardised elements.356 The master plan for the area was
originally created by Bryggman. Elina Standertskjöld has argued that Bryggman’s staggered
exhibition stands were modelled after Ernst May’s terraced houses, and that the graphic
expression of the architect had been influenced by Bauhaus books, Das Neue Frankfurt (The
New Frankfurt) magazine and the Danish publication Kritisk Revy (The Critical Journal).357
In the project description of the 700th anniversary exhibition published in Arkkitehti,
Aalto used several expressions that were foreign to the Finnish language or difficult to
grasp, such as “panoramic overall composition”, “row pavilion”, “added publicity”, “func-
tion”, “terminal” and “standard”. The use of these terms reveals the architect’s intention of
creating an impression of his work being scientifically sound. By introducing the exhibi-
tion structures, he emphasised the rationality of developing a flexible, serial system instead
of building new, individual exhibitions from scratch. He argued that such a system would
be economical but did not specify further whether savings were actually achieved.358
The following summer in 1930, Aalto introduced the Turun Sanomat Newspaper
Building to his Finnish peers in Arkkitehti. Aalto wrote that the challenge had been to
design a building with good lighting and communication arrangements on a narrow but
deep plot. Upon its completion, the building housed the newspaper printing presses, the
355 Archive reference VII-30-3. TKA.

356 Aalto 1929c, pp. 99–100.
357 Standertskjöld 1991, pp. 112–114.
358 Aalto 1929c, pp. 99–100.
94
stereotype room,359 offices, the editorial offices and retail, office and residential spaces
for let. Aalto wrote about the “dualism” of the building, referring to the division between
the spaces occupied by the newspaper and the spaces that were let to outsiders. He drew
particular attention to the seven-metre-tall window, onto which the image of a newspaper
was projected, a façade within façade. He also introduced the structural system of the
reinforced concrete building that had a flat roof with a roof garden, mentioning especially
the ventilation, advertising technology, wiring routes and iron windows. Emil Henriksson
carried out the structural calculations and Harald Wildhagen from Aalto’s office was in
charge of the drawings and supervision. Other contributors to the project were Aino
Marsio-Aalto and Erling Bjertnæs.360
Schildt had the opportunity to interview Harald Wildhagen and Erling Bjertnæs,
the Norwegian architects who worked at Aalto’s office during the Turku period. Accord-
ing to Schildt, the collaboration between the architect and engineer was governed by
the Staplemohrian model: the engineer set the boundary conditions within which
the artist-architects would realise their instincts. In Schildt’s view, the columns of the
printing hall of the Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building were the result of collabora-
tion between Emil Henriksson, Harald Wildhagen and Alvar Aalto.361 Here, Schildt
followed the general approach in art-historical research to the tectonics in architecture:
structures were not considered from the perspective of execution or, for example, the
difficulty of the novel realisation process, but from that of ideas and formal motifs.
During his Turku years, Aalto also formed a collaborative network with local profes-
sionals and companies who shared his approach and who contributed to his projects to
varying degrees. It was likely that Aalto was introduced to Turku-based builder circles
by Erik Bryggman, as some of them, such as master builder Arvi Ahti362 and engineer
Emil Henriksson, who had previously worked with Bryggman, would later participate
in projects with Aalto as the architect. Architect colleague Ilmari Sutinen from Turku,
contributed to the creation of CIAM exhibition sheets with Aalto. Aalto’s collaborative
network during his Turku period included other notable businessmen and companies,
such as the furniture manufacturer Otto Korhonen and his company Huonekalu- ja
Rakennustyötehdas (Furniture and Building Work Factory), the Turku shipyard
Crichton-Vulcan,363 factory owner and contractor Juho Tapani and lighting designer
Paavo Tynell and his manufacturing company, Taito Oy.364
359 The stereotype room was a space were printed matter using metal or wooden printing plates was produced. For
example, some of the special typefaces and symbols were printed with plates. Personal conversation with Päivi
Hovi-Wasastjerna on December 23, 2011.
360 Aalto 1930c, pp. 82–90.
361 Schildt was referring to an article on the expressive potential of concrete architecture, published in 1927 in Bygg
mästaren. Schildt 1985, pp. 45–46; Stapelmohr, O. von. 1927, pp. 75–80.
362 Arvi Ahti (Fagerroos) was born in 1888. He trained as a master builder at Turku Industrial School graduating in 1911 and
made study trips to Sweden, Denmark, Germany, France and the Netherlands. Ahti worked as a building contractor from
1916 onwards. He was a member of the committee in the Finnish Association of Master Builders between 1928 and 1933,
the member of the board of its Turku division and its chairman from 1923 onwards. Talvitie 1936, p. 28.
363 Suominen-Kokkonen 2007, pp. 51–52.
364 The first mention of Taito Oy in Aalto’s materials appears in the project description of the Southwest Finland Ag-
ricultural Cooperative Building. See Aalto 1929a, p. 85. Poutasuo has argued that the collaboration between the
two began only with Paimio Sanatorium. Poutasuo 2005, pp. 28–30.
95
2.4 THE DWELLING FOR MINIMUM
EXISTENCE
A
ll of Aalto’s significant designs from his Turku period were underway before
he came into direct contact with CIAM, in other words, before the 1929
conference in Frankfurt am Main, and some were even completed before this.
Both Aalto and Markelius attended the second CIAM conference, Die Wohnung für
das Existenzminimum, which was held in Frankfurt am Main October 24–26, 1929
with “Minimum Apartment” as its theme. The conference was attended by 130 archi-
tects from 18 countries. The Nordic countries were represented by seven delegates.365
The New York Stock Exchange crashed on the first day of the CIAM conference. The
timing most likely also caused personal difficulties for Aalto, as he was to finalise the
master drawings for Paimio Sanatorium by the beginning of December. Yet the timing
was also most opportune from the perspective of developing the carrying themes in the
Paimio Sanatorium designs.
Frankfurt had been selected as the CIAM conference location owing to its excep-
tionally progressive housing policy, which had been put into action since 1925 under the
leadership of architect Ernst May.366 The seminar programme included an excursion
to the new Frankfurt residential developments of Höhenblick, Praunheim, Römerstadt,
Bornheimer Hang and Niederrad, which were based on serial production.367 May suc-
ceeded in engaging many different stakeholders and institutions with either a direct or
indirect interest in aesthetic design. He extended his reformist programme to include
interiors, furniture and home fittings as well as marketing, communications and typogra-
phy relating to the dwellings.368 The homes were well-appointed and the costs incurred
by the conveniences were deliberately compensated with efficient spatial design.
The international exhibition which was held in conjunction with the conference
on the minimum apartment exhibited some one hundred floor plans from different
countries, designed to the same format. These were also introduced in Die Wohnung
für das Existenzminimum conference publication, with examples grouped by typology
into detached, semi-detached, multi-family houses and special cases. Each example
had their floor area, volume and window area specified. The conference publication also
included English summaries of the key papers given in French or German. The exhibi-
tion then went on tour in several European cities following the conference.369 Finland
365 Edvard Heiberg and Poul Henningsen (1894–1967) for Denmark; Aalto for Finland; Lars Backer (1892–1930) and
Fritjof Stoud Platou (1903–1980) for Norway; Sven Markelius (1889–1972) and Gunnar Sundbärg (1900–1978) for
Sweden. Giedion 1930a, p. 40.
366 The Mayor of Frankfurt, Ludwig Landmann, had invited architect Ernst May to work as the City Architect and to
lead the housing programme. In the numerous suburbs designed and executed by May and his staff during the
latter half of the 1920s, much attention was devoted to the natural setting, the creation of hygienic living spaces,
proximity to work places, and industrial mass production of housing. Curtis 1996 [1982], p. 249; See also Mohr
2011, pp. 51–67.
367 Nina Blum’s email to the author, December 6, 2011.
368 Barr and May 2011, pp. 91–97.
369 Giedion 1930a, p. 42.
96
Fig. 2.4a. The Aaltos’ exhibition dwelling at the Minimum Apartment Exhibition in Helsinki
was a 50–60 square metre flat. The grey shading marks the parts designed by Alvar Aalto
and Aino Marsio-Aalto. Drawing No. 82-14. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
97
did not feature on the exhibition tour. The systematic and to-the-point presentation of
exhibition sheets must have made an impression on Aalto. The hotel rooms that were
also presented at the Frankfurt am Main conference were inspiring for the designers,
who strived to utilise space to maximum capacity.370
Pierre Jeanneret delivered Le Corbusier’s paper “Analyse des elements fondamentaux
du problème de la maison minimum” (Analysis of the Basic Elements of the Design Prob-
lem of the Minimum Dwelling), as the latter was on a lecturing tour in South America.371
Le Corbusier’s paper was published unabridged in the conference publication in French
alongside an English summary.372 A longer English-language version was published only
in 1964 in the English edition of La Ville Radieuse, The Radiant City.373 Le Corbusier’s
paper has been discussed quite thoroughly in the present thesis, as it was considered a
particularly influential impulse to Aalto’s thinking. Similarly attention has been devoted
to Gropius’ paper, as it was elemental in awakening Aalto’s social conscience.
Le Corbusier’s point of departure was the observation that living was a biological
phenomenon, while the circumstance, such as structure, site and space, were essentially
static. In his view, living in and building a house ought to be seen as separate pursuits
for the problem to be solved. Living, or using a dwelling, was in Le Corbusier’s think-
ing based on the regular actions of a human being, which when placed in a sequence
required movement within the home. These actions demanded various spaces, the min-
imum requirements for which could be determined in great detail. These economised
measurements were what he called standards. According to Le Corbusier, the sequence
of actions was based on biological needs and could be presented in a linear fashion. In
this way, the functions of the home could be placed in their assigned places in the floor
plan. In addition to the standardised and optimised living space, the home also needed
ample natural daylight, which was received through external walls. Partitions delimiting
spaces were in his thinking simply thin membranes.374
In Le Corbusier’s system, the floor plan emerged independent of the elevation, and it
was the architect’s task to operate within the boundaries set by the open floor and ceiling
space and the practical requirements of movement as well as daylight. Le Corbusier found
reinforced concrete suitable for large-scale houses and steel for houses assembled in situ. If
the industrial method proved more expensive than the traditional method, the industrial
method needed reorganisation. Le Corbusier maintained that in the case of the minimum
apartment, the architectural problem was to do with the equipment of the home: “According
to the data (space available), the social standing and the quality of the occupier (style of life),
the equipment architect will be able to invent biological groupings within a static frame.”375
370 Standertskjöld has analysed the floor plans featured in the publication, edited by Giedion. Giedion 1930a, p. 56
and p. 207; Standertskjöld 1992a, p. 86.
371 Mumford 2002, p. 39.
372 See Le Corbusier and Jeanneret 1930a, pp. 2–5 and Le Corbusier and Jeanneret 1930b, pp. 20–29.
373 I have used the English version as reference material in translating the original text. Le Corbusier 1964a [1933], pp. 29–34.
374 See Le Corbusier and Jeanneret 1930a, pp. 2–5; Le Corbusier and Jeanneret 1930b, pp. 20–29.
375 Ibidem.
98
Le Corbusier drew parallels between biological living and architecture, saying that
focus could be directed to the architectural side, by which he meant human action
within the static frame. Towards the end of the article, Le Corbusier developed the
idea of houses supported on columns, resolving the problem of traffic in cities, and
also incorporating roof gardens. He believed that consistency and thorough actual-
isation of ideas would result in a new architectural attitude. Le Corbusier warned
against opportunism when building minimum apartments.376
Gropius discussed how architecture should respond to the social change in an
industrialised society. His paper, “Die soziologischen Grundlagen der Minimal-
wohnung für die städtische Bevölkerung” (The Sociological Foundations of the Min-
imum Apartment) made a deep impact on Aalto. The paper was delivered on Gropius’
behalf by Sigfried Giedion.377 Gropius approached his topic by describing the social
changes taking place in society: employment mainly took place outside the home and
people’s mobility had increased. The family lost its meaning as a unit of production.
The number of small households, those of single or divorced people, increased. This
created a demand for small dwellings.
Responding to changing social conditions and biological needs required the design of
a standardised minimum apartment. Every adult in a household was entitled to their own
room, even if a small one. Gropius was aware of the emancipation of women, which gave
rise to a new need for shared spaces and communality. He thought it ill-advised to cali-
brate the minimum apartment programme based on the most dire of living conditions.378
Ernst May, who hosted the conference, spoke about the characteristics of and
demand for minimum apartments and called for public investments in the construc-
tion thereof. In May’s opinion, attention should have been directed towards people’s
biological and sociological needs instead of theories. Victor Bourgeois emphasised
the scientific method in architecture, the ventilation and daylight requirements of the
minimum apartment as well as the use of machines in the home and the introduction
of air conditioning units in dwellings. Hans Smidt discussed the minimum apartment
in relation to building regulations.379
The talks delivered by Le Corbusier in South America in 1929 were published in
1930.380 The ideas presented in this book, Précisions sur un état présent de l’architecture
et de l ’urbanisme (Precisions on the Present State of Architecture and City Planning),
for example, those on furniture and interiors, reached the awareness of architectural
circles through Le Corbusier’s other activities. The title of the paper he delivered in
376 Ibidem.
377 The English translation of the German-language paper, “Die soziologischen Grundlagen der Minimalwohnung für
die städtische Bevölkerung”(The Sociological Foundations of the Minimum Apartment), was published in Walter
Gropius’ 1955 book The Scope of Total Architecture. I have used both the German version and its English transla-
tion as my sources. See Gropius 1930a, 1930b and 1955a [1929].
378 Gropius 1930a; Gropius 1930b.
379 See the English summaries. Giedion 1930a, pp. 2–16.
380 The book originally appeared in French under the title Précisions sur un état présent de l’architecture et de
l’urbanisme in 1930. It was reprinted in 1960, and the English version Precisions only appeared in 1991. Le
Corbusier, 1991 [1930].
99
Buenos Aires was “Techniques Are the Very Basis of Poetry. They Open a New Cycle
in Architecture.” Here, Le Corbusier explained his views on the relationship between
architecture and technology. Firstly, he saw “technique” in terms of resistance of mate-
rials, physics and chemistry. Secondly, sociology meant for him a new type of dwelling
and a city that met the needs of the new era. Thirdly, economy equalled standardisation,
mass production and efficiency. All these three aspects merged together to become
architecture through poetry, that is, through a unique act of creation. Drama and pathos
were eternal values for Le Corbusier whereas “technique” was transitory.381 In his paper,
he also discussed structures and the scale of cities, as well as ventilation systems, and
presented diagrams of their operating principles.382 Le Corbusier did not take into
account in his technology-driven optimism a scenario in which the technocrats would
take over and sideline the human need for drama and pathos.
The impact of the Frankfurt conference was also evident in the Stockholm Exhibi-
tion of summer 1930, with the significant manifestation of Modernism in the Nordic
countries. The exhibition committee for the Stockholm Exhibition was appointed in
1928 and its chief architect was Gunnar Asplund. For Gregor Paulsson, who was the
organizer of the Stockholm Exhibition in 1930, the Weissenhof Exhibition, consisting
of a housing district, was clearly a model.383 The Stockholm Exhibition featured a
whole urban environment with restaurants bordering the main street Corso. The main
theme of the exhibition was housing, and an architectural competition for the model
dwellings was organised prior to it. The competition was also motivated by the strong
programme that was based on teamwork and a systematic approach to resolving the
housing problem.384 Besides new architectural thinking, the debate in Sweden also
focused on city planning.385
The Swedish press and architects voiced opinions both for and against the radical
exhibition. Many socialist newspapers branded it as propaganda for Swedish capitalism,
while the conservative press regarded it as un-Swedish, opposing mass production.386
Aalto had had the opportunity to follow the planning of the exhibition on the drawing
tables of his Swedish friends.387 Aalto’s article in the Åbo Underrättelser (Turku News)
newspaper emphasised how in new architecture, design evolved from inside out, rather
381 Le Corbusier 1991 [1930], pp. 35–37.

382 Ibidem, pp. 65.
383 Rudberg 1999, pp. 20–22, p. 27 and pp. 35–37.
384 Rudberg 1981, pp. 67–73.
385 Major town-planning competitions in the districts of Gärdet and Kungsholmen were held in the late 1920s.
Swedish architects’ increasing interest in open block structures oriented according to cardinal points was evi-
dent in the proposals and was reflected in the public debate. Architect Arvid Stille’s proposal for Gärdet partly
represented a more traditional urban planning. The first prize for the Kungsholmen competition was shared
by two proposals, which were completely different from each other. One of the designs was created by Sven
Markelius and it followed the new town-planning principles of the time. The visions of many radical architects
were canonised in the early 1930s when the Social Democrats came to power. Eriksson 2001, pp. 427–435;
Hall 2009, pp. 83–90.
386 Rudberg 1999, pp. 187–193.
387 Schildt 1985, pp. 62–63.
100
than the opposite, as had been the convention before.388 In his article in Arkkitehti
(The Finnish Architectural Journal), Aalto defended the significance of the exhibitions
as a way of social education, as prescribed by the CIAM agenda. In his opinion, the
Stockholm Exhibition was the first in which the questions of the minimum apartment
had been consciously tackled. He inferred that the smaller the home, the greater the
number of everyday activities that would be carried out in shared spaces. However,
Aalto saw that this collective aspect had not been adequately addressed in the exhibition.
He also criticised the methodology: “The shortcut of quickly designing a comfortable
home has hindered many, by pushing aside an exact analysis of ‘each object separately’ in
the innumerable situations and details, which now remain completely obscure.” Aalto
stated that it takes a radical touch not to settle for superficial comfort.389
Giedion had asked Aalto in March 1930 to cover the Frankfurt conference in
the Finnish press.390 The debate on the minimum apartment eventually reached
Finland when Aalto’s article “Asuntomme probleemina” (The Dwelling as a Design
Problem) was published in Domus magazine,391 which focused on interiors, industrial
art, fine art and sculpture. It was related to the Minimum Apartment Exhibition that
opened in Kunsthalle Helsinki in late November 1930 and that, as an experiment,
was organised in conjunction with an industrial art exhibition, with Aalto as the main
exhibition architect. The exhibition aimed at shedding light on the question of ration-
alising living conditions. Featured in the exhibition were the four-to-five-member
family homes designed by Alvar Aalto and Aino Marsio-Aalto, Erik Bryggman’s
living room and a bedroom and hotel room arranged by architects P.E. and Märta
Blomstedt.392 The exhibition also featured the folding iron bed designed by Erik
Bryggman, which had a patent pending.393
At the beginning of his article, Aalto critically discussed the concept of a room
and defended the concept of the traditional Finnish open-plan kitchen-living room,
tupa, which, before its decline, had been akin to the concept of a room. Unfortunately,
he did not develop this highly interesting juxtaposition – that of tupa and the multi-
purpose living room – any further. Aalto led the reader to the idea of a versatile,
flexible living space: no family with children could live in one or even two rooms, but
living with a similar floor area in a space that was designed for the different activities
of the family members, could instead be possible for any family. Aalto understood the
dwelling to mean a sheltered space where one ate, slept, worked and played. These
needs, which he coined as “biodynamic needs”, were to inform the entire internal
order of the dwelling, instead of formal rules of composition.394
388 Aalto 1930b, p. 1.

389 Aalto 1930d, pp. 119–120.
390 Giedion’s letter to Aalto dated on March 15, 1930. Signum 10809, correspondence. AAM.
391 Domus was published by Taideteollisuusyhdistys (The Finnish Association of Industrial Arts) between 1930 and 1933.
392 Blomstedt 1930, pp. 190–194.
393 The innovation was called ”Teräspatja” (Steel mattress). The patent had been applied for in 1929. Finnish Patent
No. FI13642 (A), granted on June 19, 1931. Bryggman 1929.
394 Aalto 1930e, pp. 176–189.
101
This line of thought echoes Le Corbusier’s paper delivered at the Frankfurt am
Main conference. For Aalto, biological equalled dynamic, as it was the polar opposite
of the static, more precisely the static frame. He used the phrase “biodynamic”. Aalto
explained that families were more mobile than before and the mechanical qualities
of objects reflected this new reality. Aalto was referring to the feeling of experiencing
the modern environment, the modernity. Aalto declared that a large-sized dwelling
was not an advantage but a disadvantage. He studied the concept of the minimum
dwelling by adding to its functional features. This led him to the concept of “general
dwelling”, which was functionally superior to an “inorganic”, unfeasible entity. By
organic, he was referring to a well-functioning environment. Aalto maintained that in
a functional, comfortable home moving from one task to the next could happen with-
out difficulty and disruption as the acoustic qualities and lighting in the space were
good. A scientifically designed apartment was to be neutral and non-discriminatory.395
Next, Aalto explained the concept of culture using an ocean liner as an allegory. For
example, a mechanical engineer and his working environment with all the machinery
formed an organic entity. The engineer was probably oblivious to the style of his bed, as
long as it was comfortable. Aalto argued that housing had become a problem because
the values on which housing was based, had changed. Aalto called for a scientific solu-
tion to the housing problem. He felt that housing at the minimum income level should
be studied to determine the parameters for a standard dwelling in a classless society. He
thought that research should be targeted at the criteria that a dwelling should meet to
offer a balanced setting for social life.396
Aalto’s text was substantially similar in its analysis regarding the arrangement of the
dwelling to Le Corbusier’s paper for the Frankfurt am Main conference. Le Corbusier
had emphasised the importance of the right research questions: selecting the appro-
priate problems was crucial. This thinking showed in Aalto’s article. Aalto supported
his theoretical ideas with his own empirical observations and images such as a resident
doing his morning exercise in a small apartment. Aalto’s text is fluent and readable. His
request for research methods on the minimum apartment and “social positivity” were
in turn direct loans from Gropius. Aalto returned in his article to the necessities of
“biological” human existence: air, light and the sun. Air was a question of ventilation to
him, and its quality was a matter of great importance. Deliberating on the role of light
and the sun led him to criticise planning practices. Aalto argued that in a dwelling of 50
square metres there was no room for chance, and each angle in which light fell on the
dwelling had to be studied and carefully designed. He would address the need for fresh
air in the apartments of a block of flats collectively instead of resorting to the concept
of the garden city, which he found “sentimental”. Collective arrangements were suitable
for families, too, if the mother worked outside the home.397
395 Ibidem.
396 Ibidem.
397 Ibidem.
102
Aalto asked what the scientific criteria should be that could serve as standards,
physiological or otherwise, to the internal division of space in a dwelling and the
tectonic choices. Finally, he brought to the fore a number of issues that Gropius had
mentioned in his paper, such as the dramatic change in women’s societal position and
the need of each family member for privacy.398
Aalto’s article discussing the novel ideas for living ran across seven spreads of
Domus magazine. Typical of the layout style of the time, the illustrations and the
copy did not progress concurrently. Aalto was not in charge of the illustrations for
the article and Domus did not make full use of visual means of communication.399
Alvar Aalto and Aino Marsio-Aalto’s exhibition department received more column
space in Domus than the others. Finnish colleague Rafael Blomstedt considered Aal-
to’s kitchen organisation more interesting than their other room designs, as it con-
tained all imaginable kitchen machinery. He only regretted that the machines were
not Finnish-made. He also pointed out that small kitchens divided opinion: Some
experts had been scathingly critical of the small kitchen, while some had commended
them for the economical use of space. Blomstedt applauded the pulp paper wallpa-
per, designed by architect Uno Ullberg for Enso Gutzeit, as a durable, easy to paint
and smooth-surfaced material but complained about its strong smell.400 This sound
absorbing wall paper was later used in the Pamio Sanatorium patient room. The Aal-
tos’ exhibition dwelling had two iron windows and two coupled wooden windows.401
According to Elina Standertskjöld, Aalto applied ideas that he had adopted at the
Stockholm Exhibition in the Kunsthalle Helsinki exhibition of minimum apartments.
The Aaltos’ exhibition dwelling was a 50–60 square-metre flat, which was approxi-
mately the size of the minimum apartments exhibited at the Frankfurt exhibition.
The minimum apartment exhibition also included a technical display of building
types. In his address in the exhibition publication entitled “Minimum Apartment?”,
Aalto borrowed directly from ideas presented in the Die Wohnung für das Existenz
minimum conference, while the ideas presented in P.E. Blomstedt’s piece “Old and
New Industrial Art” in the exhibition catalogue were very close to those introduced
by Sven Markelius in the 1928 architecture conference in Turku, Finland.402
398 Ibidem.
399 The first five spreads of the article “Asuntomme probleemina” (The Dwelling as a Design Problem) contains pictures
of church textiles, photographs of Bryggman’s Parainen Chapel, Teuvo Church following its renovation, the following
five spreads of church art and Bryggman’s Emanuel Church and Hospitals. For a researcher of today, this seems
highly paradoxical. Aalto had specifically stated in his article published on New Year’s Day in 1928 that the church
did not constitute a design task the social substance of which would offer any other choice of expression except the
traditionally artistic one. Ibidem.
400 Blomstedt 1930, p. 191.
401 Drawing No. 93-18. AAM.
402 Standertskjöld 1992a, p. 87.
103
The new ideas at the Stockholm Exhibition provoked public debate as late as 1931,
when the apologist publication for the new movement, acceptera [sic] (To Accept),
was published. It was edited by six architects and critics, Gregor Paulsson, Eskil Sun-
dahl, Gunnar Asplund, Wolter Gahn, Uno Åhrén and Sven Markelius, collectively.403
According to Rudberg, Åhrén was responsible for the highly polemic layout, with its
collages, journalistic formats and choice of photographs reminiscent of the Danish
Kritisk Revy (The Critical Journal, published in 1926–1928), Ernst May’s German
publication Das Neue Frankfurt and Le Corbusier’s writings. Acceptera was optimistic.
Architecture should respond to its time culturally, socially and technologically. For the
writers, hand-made and industrial production were complementary and they needed
not to be treated as opposites. Democratic development and the change in women’s
status were major cultural challenges to which architecture was expected to react.404
Uno Åhrén was an active writer and served as the editor-in-chief for Byggmästaren
in 1929–1932. He was Sweden’s other representative alongside Sven Markelius in
CIRPAC, the preparatory committee for CIAM, from 1930 onwards,405 where his role
also included the work of the press committee. In his article “Brytningar” (Breakages)
from 1925, Åhrén described Le Corbusier’s inspiring take on architecture based on the
latter’s books Vers Une Architecture and Urbanisme (The City of Tomorrow).406 Åhrén
went on to become a major advocate of architecture in Sweden and wrote reviews on
the major late 1920s architectural exhibitions, such as Weissenhof Siedlung in Stutt-
gart 1927.407 According to Swedish Professor of Art History Thomas Hall, who has
conducted in-depth research into the urban structure of Stockholm, Uno Åhrén, who
backed the idea of an open urban structure and opposed closed city blocks, was one
of Sweden’s leading theoreticians and proponents of urban planning at the turn of the
1920s and 1930s.408 Åhrén was also involved in launching radical study circles409 dis-
cussing architectural and social issues, some of which were also attended by Sven Mar-
kelius410. Although Åhrén and Markelius’ professional paths thus frequently crossed,
Åhrén and Aalto had probably not built a close friendship. Arkkitehti (The Finnish
Architectural Journal) published Aalto’s critique on the Swedish Acceptera publication.
He used the opportunity to remind readers that architects formed a body of scientists,
whose unquestionable duty was to create flexible and organic culture.411
403 Asplund et al 1931.

404 Asplund et al 1931; Rudberg 1981, pp. 74–78.
405 Rudberg 1981, p. 54.
406 Urbanisme by Le Corbusier was first published in French in 1924. Le Corbusier 1998 [1924].
407 Åhrén 1927, pp. 253–261.
408 Hall 2009, pp. 87–89.
409 Examples of such groups were Fritt forum (The Free Forum), a group established in 1924 that dedicated itself to
philosophical and social questions; a group formed by architects in 1928 to discuss economic matters; Tretton
klubben (The Club of the Thirteen), established in the early 1930s by architects and cultural luminaries; and Clarté
(Clarity), also established in the early 1930s by radical architects. Activists in all these groups, including Åhrén,
were prolific writers. Rudberg 1981, pp. 81–83.
410 Rudberg 1989, pp. 75–76.
411 Aalto 1930d, pp. 119–120.
104
Fig. 2.4b. The Stockholm Exhibition featured a whole urban environment with restaurants bordering the
main street Corso. Photo No. 1976-107-0480. ArkDes.
105
2 . 5 O N T H E R E L AT I O N S H I P
BETWEEN SVEN MARKELIUS AND
A LV A R A A LT O
S
ven Markelius and Alvar Aalto met in 1926 and soon became family friends.412
Markelius and Aalto engaged in a close exchange of ideas up until the early
1930s. Both modernists’ interests extended to the design of objects, buildings,
urban planning and influencing public opinion through the media.
With a grant from Kammarkollegiet (The Swedish Legal, Financial and Administra-
tive Services Agency), Markelius went on a six-week European tour in summer 1927 to
study new airports. On this trip, he also met Gropius and visited the new Bauhaus school
and Törten housing estate in Dessau, both designed by Gropius. Markelius also visited
the Weissenhof Siedlung exhibition in Stuttgart that summer.413 On his return, Marke-
lius wrote a piece in Byggmästaren (The Master Builder) about the Dessau-Törten housing
estate, which he admired greatly and in the project management of which Gropius had
applied Ford’s conveyor belt method.414 Markelius suggested that a more systematic
method of housing construction could bring savings and improve the quality of housing
also in Sweden.415 In Markelius’ opinion, the main obstacle for serial housing production
in Sweden was prejudice against standardisation.416 The developers of the Dessau-Törten
housing estate had open-mindedly applied typological thinking417 and the building
process had been carefully planned beforehand.418 Local materials were used whenever
possible, which considerably reduced transport costs.419 All parts had been designed to
be light enough for one man to lift. Work had been divided into stages, each of which
was carried out by the same worker throughout the site. A group of eight houses had
been built simultaneously, after which a team moved on to the next stage.420 Markelius’
social responsibility shows in the detail in which he analysed the low building costs at
Dessau-Törten and how these low costs benefited the consumer.421
The following spring he had the honour of delivering a paper at Turun Seurahuone
Hotel during the meeting of the Finnish Association of Architects in Turku.422 His article
“Rationalisointipyrkimykset nykyaikaisessa huoneenrakennustaiteessa” (Rationalisation in
Modern Building Construction) was published in Arkkitehti (The Finnish Architectural
412 Schildt 1985, pp. 46–54.

413 Rudberg 1989a, pp. 48–50.
414 Markelius 1927, p. 242.
415 Markelius 1927, p. 236.
416 Ibidem, p. 238.
417 Since most people have similar needs, it is only natural that these are treated en masse. Building individually was
a waste of resources and a misplaced emphasis on the personal. Ibidem, p. 236.
418 Ibidem, p. 238.
419 Ibidem, p. 238 and p. 242.
420 Ibidem, p. 242.
421 Markelius 1927, 243; See also Wager 2009, p. 66.
422 Raija-Liisa Heinonen and David Pearson interviewed Hilding Ekelund, who joined Arkkitehti in 1930 as sub-editor.
Ekelund argued that it was particularly this paper by Markelius that marked the breakthrough of "Functionalism"
in Finland. Heinonen 1986, p. 13.
106
Fig. 2.5a. Alvar Aalto and Sven Markelius on
Vierwaltstättersee in Switzerland around 1930.
Photo No. 106593. The photograph has been
cropped. AAM.
107
Journal) and gained nationwide attention.423 Markelius demanded a modern approach
to social, economic and technological issues. In his view, the democratic times called for
appropriate addressing of genuine housing needs, high hygienic standards and economy.
According to Markelius, technical execution, the task and intended use were the new
starting points for design, and the machine had become a form-giving factor. Markelius
warned his peers against formalism and urged them to use steel and reinforced concrete
and respect the real nature of these materials. He argued that the shortage of housing
could be alleviated by making use of new technology and rational solutions. He empha-
sised typification and standards as prerequisites for mechanical mass production and
considered the emergence of types a sign of mature building culture.424
According to Rudberg, Markelius was inspired in his design particularly by Le
Corbusier, while his ideological thinking was fuelled by Walter Gropius. Markelius’
opinions against property speculation and short-sighted trade union policies mirrored
those of Gropius. Like Gropius, Markelius emphasised the importance of curbing the
rise of building costs and promoting new building materials and working methods.
Markelius’ paper delivered in Turku showed a clear line of thought. In addition, being
invited by the Finnish Association of Architects helped establish Markelius’ position as
one of the most significant proponents of the new movement in his homeland.425
The Stockholm Exhibition of summer 1930 also featured a hospital unit, which was
designed by Sven Markelius and his team of experts and has been given only passing
attention in research. The unit, that represented the terraced hospital type, included an
operating theatre and a ward. Also exhibited were hospital instruments, furniture, light
fittings and floor and wall materials. Heating, ventilation and sanitary systems were
given particular attention. According to Markelius, the aim of the design was to cast a
look into the future rather than repeat previous achievements.426 The ward was located
on the top floor of the exhibition building and it incorporated a tea room and a lounge
that were placed at opposite ends of a corridor, a four-bed patient room, a two-bed
patient room and a combined wet room and lavatory in between the two. The wet
room was placed in between the patient rooms, although in a real hospital it should be
accessible to all patients and would be placed on the less prominent side of the building.
The exhibition architect pointed out that, even if somewhat extravagant, placing the
lavatory adjacent to the patient rooms improved the quality of the patient room and the
hygiene standards in the hospital, and saved labour. A four-bed room was an attempt by
the team to respond to the demand for more efficient hospital wards. The patient rooms
received daylight through two ribbon windows, the upper ribbon near the ceiling and
the lower one level with the door. Markelius aimed to maximise the amount of daylight
without excessively increasing the window area. Both ribbons could be covered with
423 Markelius 1928, p. 71.

424 Ibidem, p. 71.
425 Rudberg 1989a, pp. 48–50.
426 Markelius 1930, pp. 173–176.
108
Fig. 2.5b. The patient room in Markelius’ model hospital at the Stockholm Exhibition, summer 1930.
Markelius 1930, pp. 173–176.
Fig. 2.5c. The model hospital designed by Markelius for the Stockholm Exhibition represented the
terraced hospital type. Each room had an access to the terrace. Markelius 1930, pp. 173–176.
109
sunshades. The lower ribbon was also equipped with an awning, which would shade the
faces of patients reclining outdoors on the terrace outside the window.
The terraced hospital type had a topical example in the Waiblingen Hospital near
Stuttgart (1928), designed by Richard Döcker. According to Markelius, adding terraces
was applicable only in fairly low, two to three, or at the very most four storey buildings
located on low-density sites. In terraced hospitals, patients could benefit from fresh
outdoor air for most of the year. The writer anticipated that the hospital building type
would be popular among physicians, as it would speed up recovery.427
Interestingly, Aalto made no mention about Markelius’ hospital ward in his critique of
the Stockholm Exhibition in Arkkitehti (The Finnish Architectural Journal). However, it
must have provided real and concrete solutions for a number of detailed design questions
that Aalto was working on at that time. Markelius specifically stressed his attempt to
freely experiment with new possibilities in hospital design rather than showcase existing
solutions. The exhibition hospital ward focused on the floor plan of two key spaces, the
patient room and the operating theatre, as well as hospital technology, furniture, interior
arrangements and equipment.428
Both Markelius and Aalto were familiar with Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit, although
neither mentions this in their articles. This particular hospital concept merits further discus-
sion because Ford approached the problematics of a hospital from a completely new angle:
the patient. This approach must have had a bearing in both Aalto’s and Markelius’ design
ideology. Ford recounted the story of the Detroit hospital in his best-selling book My Life
and Work, in the chapter “Why Charity?”.429 Ford had donated funds for the hospital, which
was built as a charity project. As the project exceeded its original budget, Ford redeemed
himself for the project by returning all donations to their origin. Ford regarded charity as
passivating and humiliating for the beneficiary. He set out to develop a hospital concept
aimed at middle-income population that would support itself. The idea was to produce a
maximum volume of services with as low expenditure as possible, but the purpose of the
hospital was not, in the end, to generate profit. Ford changed the plans for both the building
and the hospital operations. Rooms were to be private and exactly identical. The hospital
fee depended on the length of stay and the nature of treatments, which were priced in
advance. According to Ford, it was difficult to say whether the hospitals of the day had been
designed to benefit the doctors or the patients. To avoid misdiagnosis and the supremacy
of doctors, each patient was given several, independent diagnoses. Doctors and nurses were
on a monthly salary with one-year contracts, so the doctors were not tempted to order
unnecessary treatments for patients to increase their own income. One nurse had no more
than seven patients at one time. Ford called for a more constructive approach to organising
public services and the inclusion of economics in general education.430
427 Markelius 1930, pp. 173–176.

428 Ibidem, pp. 173–176.
429 The description of the hospital can be found in the Chapter “Why Charity?” Ford [1922], pp. 215–219.
430 Ibidem.
110
Fig. 2.5d. The main interior of Helsingborg Concert Hall, designed by Sven Markelius,
has a similar spatial composition to the theatre auditorium of Aalto’s Southwest Finland
Agricultural Cooperative Building (see Fig. 2.3g), as acknowledged by Eva Rudberg. Photo
No. 1962-101-0334a. ArkDes.
News coverage on the paper Aalto delivered in Oslo in 1931 reveals the Fordian
influence in his hospital design philosophy. Aalto emphasised the role of the patient as
the starting point for the design. Aalto maintained that architects should study human
behaviour and human needs and translate the findings into design and the choice of
materials: concrete, glass and linoleum. He held that, in a hospital project, physicians
and architects should work together and also that the hygiene standards required for a
hospital were equally appropriate when designing homes.431
In reality, Markelius was not in the process of designing a hospital and his exhibition
ward elicited no reaction from Aalto, at least not publicly. The architectural intentions of
Markelius were best manifested in his main work until then, the Helsingborg Concert
Hall, completed in autumn 1932. The design had evolved from the classicist competition
win from 1925 towards new rationalism, as Alvar Aalto’s design for the Vyborg Library
had similarly evolved after 1927. For its placement and design of the stairs, Eva Rudberg
has also likened the Helsingborg Concert Hall to the theatre auditorium of the South-
west Finland Agricultural Cooperative Building.432 It would seem plausible to assume
that close colleagues would be aware of the progress of each other’s ongoing projects and
that they would discuss them.
431 Anon 1931, p. 6; See also Schildt 1985, p. 65.

432 Rudberg 1989a, p. 41.
111
Fig. 2.5e. Otto Korhonen’s patent for a stackable wooden chair, Finnish Patent
FI14869 (A), was granted on December 30, 1932. The patent application was filed
October 15, 1929, from which date the design was protected. PRH.
112
Fig. 2.5f. Aalto redesigned the chair Otto Korhonen had patented. Huonekalu- ja
Rakennustyötehdas Oy, published on January 1, 1934, p. 7.
Shortly before the completion of Helsing-

borg Concert Hall, Markelius had voiced his
concern that the stackable chair he had designed
for the Concert Hall violated Aalto’s copyright,
as it resembled Aalto’s design for a similar type
of chair.433 When Markelius queried this from
Aalto, the latter had no objection. In fact, Aalto
had himself modelled his stackable chair after
Otto Korhonen’s patented stackable chair with
Korhonen’s consent. In Korhonen’s innovation,
the stackability was the patented quality. More-
over, patents were national and the innovation
was protected by a patent in Finland only.434
Aalto never mentioned this aspect of his design
to Markelius. Their correspondence does not
reveal whether Markelius knew that what was
being discussed was actually Korhonen’s inven- Fig. 2.5g. Stackable chair designed
tion and whether Korhonen was ever aware that by Sven Markelius for Helsingborg
Concert Hall. Rudberg 1989a, p. 41.
his idea was being plagiarised.435
433 A letter from Markelius to Aalto dated September 17, 1932. Signum 10314, correspondence, AAM.
434 The protection of the patent started from the day of application, October 15, 1929. Finnish Patent Tuoli (Chair)
No. FI14869. Patent documents. NA.
435 There is no correspondence between Otto Korhonen and Alvar Aalto in the archives of the AAM. As they both
lived in Turku until 1933, they did not necessarily write letters to each other. In October 1933, Korhonen sent
Aalto his biographic information upon request. Korhonen was born in Rautalampi in on June 11, 1884. He had
studied two years at the Kuopio School for Carpenters, after which he had started working as a carpenter. In 1910,
Korhonen established the company he was then managing, with three other colleagues. Otto Korhonen’s letter
to Aalto, October 25, 1933. KOR.
113
In August 1932, Sven Markelius had persuaded Aalto to write in the architectural
October issue of the new Spektrum magazine, the theme of which was architecture and
society. Markelius was himself planning to write about collective housing, Åhrén on
functionalist form, and Poul Henningsen would also contribute as an editor. Markelius
hoped that Aalto would submit an illustrated article, stating that “pages in high-grade
paper can be added as necessary”. The writer would be allowed to choose his own
subject and a small financial compensation was also promised.436 Aalto wrote back
to Markelius saying that he would write on the differences between the city and the
countryside from the perspective of rationalisation of housing design. Aalto decided to
study housing design on a scale that was new to himself but highly topical at the time.
Aalto complained about lack of funds in the correspondence regarding the arti-
cle, and he was to receive no further remuneration for Paimio Sanatorium. He used
this as an excuse for not travelling to the opening of Helsingborg Concert Hall, to
which Markelius had invited him in his previous letter.437 It would appear that the
friends were becoming more distant.
In October, Markelius sent Aalto a letter thanking him for the article and asking for
illustrations for it.438 In the next letter, he commented on Aalto’s use of language. Mar-
kelius claimed that Aalto had used words that did not sound scientific. Since the article
was aimed at the general public, certain expressions needed to be further explained,
Markelius wrote, and continued: “In places, there are also differences in the ways we
express ourselves on either side of the Bothnian Bay. I have added some comments in
the margins where I think you ought to pay some attention to ensure the passage is
comprehensible to ordinary people”.439 Aalto may have been offended by Markelius’
comment, which explains why the correspondence became critical in its tone.
Aalto’s article “Bostadsfrågans geografi” (The Geography of the Housing Problem)
discusses geography and technological systems in the context of the housing ques-
tion. According to Aalto, the metropolis and the countryside, the A and B Europe,
were polar opposites in terms of lifestyle. Industrial development had to some degree
levelled out the differences, as modern conveniences had reached rural areas. The
beginning of the article is highly reminiscent of Gropius’ paper for the Brussels con-
ference, although Gropius did not use the terms “A and B Europe”. The same terms
had been used a year earlier in Acceptera, in the Chapter “Kultursituation” (Cultural
Situation). Acceptera gave insight on the concept which originated in Francis Delais’
work Les deux Europes (The Two Europes) published in 1929.440
436 A letter from Markelius to Aalto August 25, 1932. Signum 10313, correspondence. AAM.
437 Aalto’s letter to Markelius s.a. Correspondence, Signum 25530. AAM.
438 Markelius’ letter to Aalto October 13, 1932. Signum 10316, correspondence. AAM.
439 Markelius’ letter to Aalto October 19,1932. Signum 10317, correspondence. AAM.
440 Asplund et al. 1931 pp. 15–25; Pelkonen 2009, p. 106.
114
Aalto felt that traffic was too narrow a point of view for discussion on the geography
of the housing problem because people’s need for social contact also demanded atten-
tion. In his view, the radio was a centralising force because a log cabin was just a passive
recipient. A telephone system, including the main line, the switchboard, and special
lines branching out from it, was in his view close to the order of the natural biological
system, or locally grouped cells: “There is not a tree in which the needles would grow
directly from the stem, but from smaller branches.”441 The economy of the telephone
would lead to an organic organisation that would allow for low-density planning which
would require local concentration. The economic routing of roads and streets, and the
organisation principles of the railway, telegraph and post, favoured local concentration
instead of isolated cells. Aalto regarded industrialisation, the replacement of human
labour with machines, and planned economy as equalising factors that levelled out
development. Aalto promoted the use of technological systems and suggested that their
operating principles should be acknowledged in the design of housing districts. 442
Aalto called for consistency in housing development both in the urban and rural
context, just like Gropius had done in Brussels and Åhrén at the Nordic Building Forum
in 1932 in Helsinki.443 He compared certain technological systems and human cultural
needs with “nature’s own biological system, the principle of locally grouped cells” and, in
more practical terms, with the way a tree grows. The installation teams circulating on a
building site, as described by Aalto, were a direct reflection of the way the prefabricated
houses in Dessau-Törten had been built.444
The Swedish and Finnish CIAM members were also active in organising the
Nordic Building Forum held in July 1932 in Helsinki. The event’s Swedish organising
committee was chaired by Sven Markelius, who regretted in his opening address the
low number of Swedish participants, assuming it was the result of the recession.445
An architectural exposition was organised in conjunction with the event. The dwelling
designs of Alvar Aalto and Aino Marsio-Aalto highlighted industrial building methods
and the problematics of a small apartment.446 This event also presented an opportunity
to promote Modernist ideology among peers.
441 Aalto 1932c, p. 88.

442 Aalto 1932c, pp. 90–91.
443 Gropius 1931, pp. 26–47; Åhrén 1932, pp. 26–30.
444 Gropius applied Tayloristic theories in building, as discussed by Sven Markelius in a 1927 issue of Byggmästaren
(The Master Builder). Markelius 1927.
445 Markelius 1932a, p. 8.
446 “Rental apartment house, small dwellings of 35–91 square metres in size, Turku”, or Standard Apartment Building
and “Row house, small dwellings, Paimio”, or the Paimio Sanatorium workers’ building. The lower floor of the
latter project was realised as a row house, in which the number of rooms in an apartment could vary from one to
three. Anon 1933, p. 222.
115
2 . 6 T H E H O R I ZO N TA L S L I D I N G
WINDOW
G
iedion attempted to organise a construction technology exhibition in conjunc-
tion with the CIAM conference in Brussels, with the horizontal sliding window
as its theme.447 Giedion contacted Aalto for material for the exhibition. In Sep-
tember, Aalto sent a number of sketches on the structure of his sliding window designs.448
In October, Giedion confirmed having received Aalto’s drawings and asked for a physical
model. In November, he queried again whether the windows that Aalto had promised him
had already been dispatched. Eventually, the sliding window Aalto sent for the exhibition
arrived too late.449 Giedion’s intended exhibition never finally materialised in Brussels, but
it was later realised in Zurich.450
The exhibition, although not finalised as intended, nonetheless gave Aalto the
impetus to develop steel window types. They were in demand, as steel windows had
until then been available only as imports and Finnish manufacturers had recently
started producing them.451 In September 1930, Aalto sketched several versions of the
metal-framed sliding window with German annotations.452 The Aaltos’ exhibit at the
Helsinki Minimum Apartment Exhibition in 1930 included one iron window and it
is possible that Aalto had only one sample window made, which he would prefer to
showcase in Finland rather than Brussels.453 It may be that the architect could not
afford to have more than one sample window made and he knew that he would gain
more attention for it in Finland than elsewhere.
The drawings of the horizontal sliding windows created for the Brussels exhi-
bition were grouped with the Paimio Sanatorium drawings at the Alvar Aalto
Museum. The sanatorium drawings included 13 window standard drawings in total,
eight of which were numbered. Four drawings were undated. The oldest drawing
was dated January 1929 and the last one October 1930. Standards Nos. 201–206
had German annotations and Standard 203 Finnish annotations, and they were all
signed by Aalto. These were the same drawings that Aalto created for the sliding
window exhibition. Standard drawings Nos. 201–206 had no window codes that
refered to the sanatorium’s window programme and, in terms of their solution, they
paid no resemblance to any of the windows that were eventually realised at the
hospital. Moreover, Standards Nos. 201–206 were dated October 1930, while the
window acquisitions for the sanatorium took place much later, in spring of 1931.
These standards were therefore not related to acquisitions for the sanatorium.
447 Giedion’s letter to Aalto, which was probably written at the end of August 1930. Signum 10812, correspondence. AAM.
448 Aalto’s letter to Giedion, September 10, 1930. Signum 25453, correspondence. AAM.
449 Giedion’s letter to Aalto, January 13, 1931. Signum 10821, correspondence. AAM.
450 Mumford 2002, p. 78.
452 Elina Standerskjöld described these drawings. Standerskiöld 1992b, p. 91.
453 Elina Standerskiöld also arrived at the same conclusion. Standerskiöld 1992b, p. 90.
116
Fig. 2.6a. Standard No. 202 by Alvar Aalto presents a horizontal sliding steel window. It was
dated September 2, 1930 and the texts were written in German. Drawing No. 50-170. AAM.
Standard No. 201 showed a timber-frame horizontal sliding window. The casements
of the fixed panes are marked to be opened for cleaning only.454 Standard No. 202
showed a steel-frame horizontal sliding window. The single-glazed window included
a combination of a circular tube profile, a semi-circular profile and rectangular profiles.
The tubular profiles slided one inside the other in a horizontal direction. Both the outer
and inner casements were movable. The panes were fixed with wooden casings. The
outer casement was marked yellow and the inner one red in the picture.455 Standard No.
203 showed a timber-frame horizontal sliding window, with a fixed outer pane and a
movable inner pane. Standard No. 204 was an iron-framed horizontal sliding window
with tubular profiles at the top and the bottom that slided one inside the other. The
inner pane was movable and the outer one fixed.456 Standard No. 205 was a four-pane
window, one of which was a vertically opening sash. The movable sash was flanked
by two upright frames made from round tubular profiles. The panes were fixed with
wooden casings.457 Standard N o. 206 was a steel-frame horizontal sliding window with
nested round tubular profiles at the top and the bottom.458 One of the unnumbered and
undated window standards showed a four-pane steel window with two vertically open-
ing casements and upright frames of tubular profiles459 and the other the mechanism
of the window.460 These two pencil drawings were somewhat sketchy in comparison to
standards Nos. 201–206.

117
Aalto had previously used the Dutch-made Crittal Braal system in the Turun
Sanomat Newspaper Building, in the Southwest Finland Agricultural Cooperative
Building and the Standard Apartment Building, which had consolidated his knowl-
edge about the design problems related to steel windows and and doors.461 Now he had
the confidence to design windows and their details by himself and was ready to send
his designs to be displayed at an international show. Aalto attempted to understand
the mechanisms of one industrially manufactured building part and systematically
created several variations of the windows, including details. Aalto considered window
design an important task and the modernistic discourse was embodied in his design
down to single building parts, in this case windows.
Le Corbusier had engaged in heated public debate in mid-1920s on fenestration
with his former mentor, architect Auguste Perret (1874–1954). According to Perret,
the primary function of windows was to add light to a space and he argued against
Le Corbusier by claiming that the horizontal windows championed by the latter were
overlooking this function. For Perret, windows were also linked with the proportions
of the human body and how a person experiences a space. He was not interested in the
panorama, which is the view that Le Corbusier’s horizontal window afforded.462 One
result of this debate undoubtedly was that avant-garde architects were now conscious of
the issue and that the theme of the exhibition held in conjunction with the third CIAM
conference was indeed the horizontal sliding window, and not simply the sliding win-
dow. There are no records indicating whether Aalto was aware of the window dispute
between the two architects. The drawings he prepared for the Brussels exhibition actu-
ally included one four-pane window in the shape of a horizontal rectangle, in which the
bottom panes are pulled upwards.463
461 See Aalto 1930c, 1929a and 1929d.

462 See e.g. Colomina 1998 [1994], pp. 128–139, and Britton 2001, pp. 134–138.
463 Standard No. 205, drawing No. 50-173. AAM.
118
2 .7 T H E R AT I O N A L S I T E P L A N N I N G
A
alto was unable to attend the three-day seminar Rationelle Bebauungweisen
(Rational Site Planning) held in Brussels as it coincided with the opening of
the Minimum Apartment Exhibition in Helsinki.464 Aalto had been informed
beforehand about the main topics of the seminar, having received, for example, an
abridged version of Gropius’ paper to be presented at the seminar, sent out by Giedion
to all CIAM representatives.465 Aalto was fully involved in the Brussels event in spirit,
proven by the fact that he had delivered materials from Finland to Brussels for the
exhibition on sliding windows. Aalto also met Giedion in Zurich466 and several CIAM
members in Frankfurt am Main a month before the conference.467 Papers presented at
this conference also reflected on Aalto’s own discourse.
In his paper “Le parcellement du sol des villes” (The Subdivision of Land in Cities),
Le Corbusier noted that the themes of the conference were limited to living and that
the topics also incorporated the question of mobility. He responded analytically by
compartmentalising the problem into sub-themes: the dwelling was to secure privacy
for the family, there should be enough daylight, the designers should pay attention to
clean indoor air and ventilation, the living environment of a person working outside the
home should be organised based on a 24-hour clock and the “human machine” should
be maintained, for example, through exercise. Le Corbusier also recognised the need for
visual drama and architectural expression.468
In Le Corbusier’s opinion, a choice should be made between the garden city and
dense urban concentration. He found the right alternative to be one that would not waste
people’s time, energy, money or land. He defended dense, high-rising developments and
fantasised about houses based on internal access corridors, or “streets”, with lifts trans-
porting residents to their flats. In the test buildings erected in Moscow, the noise from
the corridor had been considered a problem, which could, however, be solved through
architectural means, according to Le Corbusier.469 In Le Corbusier’s vision, the housing
problems could be solved by building and utilising technology.
Gropius’ paper, “Flach-, Mittel- oder Hochbau?” (Low, Medium or High-rise?),470
discussed the different heights of residential buildings. In his view, the problem was the
opposition between the town and the country – a topic which was also touched upon by
Aalto in his article “Bostadsfrågans geografi” (The Geography of the Housing Problem).
464 The third conference of CIAM was held in Brussels on November 27–29, 1930 and the Minimum Apartment Exhi-
bition in Helsinki was opened November 29, 1930.
465 Aalto’s letter to Giedion, November 8, 1930. Signum 10820, correspondence. AAM.
466 Aalto thanks Giedion for his hospitality in Zurich in his letter, November 9, 1930. Signum 25456, correspon-
dence. AAM.
467 The CIRPAC meeting was held in Frankfurt am Main on September 20 but Aalto visited the city only on September
25, 1930 and met many of CIAM’s representatives. Aalto apparently did not attend the CIRPAC meeting. See
Giedion’s letter to Aalto, August 25, 1930. Signum 10813, correspondence. AAM; Schildt 1985, p. 65.
468 Le Corbusier 1931, pp. 48–57.
469 Le Corbusier 1931, pp. 48–50; Le Corbusier 1964a [1933], p. 38–39.
470 Gropius 1955b [1931].
119
According to Gropius, technological development would soften the polarisation
between the town and the country, as urban conveniences could be introduced to
rural areas and the greenery of the countryside could be brought to the city. Gropius
defended the Zeilenbau (row construction) principle, which refers to a rationalistic
method of building parallel multi-storey residential buildings with several lamellas. He
maintained that towns should be planned so that the volume of traffic would remain
as low as possible. Gropius suggested that one or two storey houses be favoured on the
outskirts and 10–12 storey buildings in the centre of cities. He dismissed blocks of flats
of any intermediary scale as he found them socially, psychologically and economically
inferior. Gropius’ address emphasised the possibilities opened up by technology and the
new social order as well as the spatial consequences of it, such as collective houses.471
The seminar publication of the Brussels conference, Rationelle Bebauungsweisen, com-
piled key papers delivered at the conference and examples of residential buildings from
different countries. The examples were grouped according to the building type and were
presented in an identical visual format. Among the 56 examples, three were from Turku.
Projects Nos. 12 and 13 were grouped under “North–South-oriented low-rise buildings”.
Project No. 12 introduced an imaginary project at Vartiovuori area in Turku.472 No floor
plan of the project was presented. Project No. 13 was described as experimental in its
social status.473 The floor plan and photograph presented the workers’ residential building
at Paimio Sanatorium. The site plan, showing five identical parallel buildings, was not,
however, true to the reality at Paimio. Aalto simply repeated his real design to appear to
follow the Zeilenbau principle. Project No. 35 represented a series of parallel multi-storey
residential buildings.474 The buildings were three storeys high. The site plan shows two
street types, a residential street and a main arterial street.475 The floor plan was taken from
the Standard Apartment Building. Raija-Liisa Heinonen argued that resorting to imag-
inary designs, compiled from different sources, was the only ticket to the international
conference, because real projects such as these had not yet been completed in Finland.476 It
would appear that Aalto multiplied the number of residential buildings he had designed to
attract interest in ContinentalEurope, although no such plan was ever going to be realised
at Paimio. Aalto’s conduct was not, however, dishonest, as his motivation was really to
show to the international media that he was aware of the current international discourse.
The exhibition publication also revealed that Finland’s representatives in CIRPAC for
1930–1932 were Alvar Aalto and “Soutinen”.477 The misspelled name belonged to architect
Eero Ilmari Sutinen (1892–1947), who served as a city planning architect in Turku from
471 Gropius 1955b [1931], pp. 119–133.

472 The sheets included in Heinonen’s picture supplement were featured at the Brussels exhibition in 1930, and not
at the one in Frankfurt am Main in 1929, as Heinonen mentions. Heinonen 1986, illustrations 124 a, b and c.
473 Experimental settlement. Giedion 1931c, p. 195.
474 Giedion 1931c, p. 204.
475 Heinonen compared Aalto’s proposal with Ilmari Sutinen’s site plan for the Makasiini plots from 1929. Heinonen
1986, illustration No. 125.
476 Heinonen 1986, p. 195.
477 Giedion 1931b, p. 210.
120
Fig. 2.7a. The photograph of the building site of the workers’ apartment building at Paimio Sanatorium
appeared in the Rationelle Bebauungsweisen (Rational Site Planning) publication and was shot in July
1930. Photo No. 50-003-512. AAM.
Fig. 2.7b. A diagram of the floor plan Fig. 2.7c. The site plan that appeared in Rationelle
for the workers’ apartment building Bebauungsweisen showed five building blocks when only
at Paimio Sanatorium appeared in one was realised. Giedion 1931c, sheet 13.
Rationelle Bebauungsweisen publication.
Giedion 1931c, sheet 13.
121
Fig. 2.7d The workers' apartment building finished in 1932. Photo No.
50-003-432. AAM.
1925 onwards. It is likely that Aalto and Sutinen were jointly behind the three Finnish
examples submitted to the Brussels exhibition. Sixteen sheets of Le Corbusier’s “La Ville
Radieuse” (The Radiant City) town plan were also featured at Brussels.
In spring 1931, Giedion and Aalto corresponded on the publication of an article
on Finnish architecture and Aalto’s projects in the German Bauwelt (The Building
Magazine), which served as CIAM’s publicity channel. Aalto’s article “Ein Brief von
Alvar Aalto” (A Letter from Alvar Aalto), the project description of the Turun Sanomat
Newspaper Building and an overview of Finnish architecture, written by Giedion, were
published in CIAM’s country file on Finland.478 Aalto’s article had four key points:
Finland was an agricultural society; the country grew vast quantities of wood; the ques-
tions of urban development had yet to be thoroughly discussed; and, while Finland
had some urban development, in terms of organic building, construction and town
planning, it had only weak architectural content.479 The illustrations of the country file
on Finland were dominated by nine high-quality photographs and drawings of the
Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building and two photographs of the Minimun Apartment
Exhibition. This marked Aalto’s arrival on the international stage as a designer.
In May, Giedion sent Aalto the agenda of the Berlin special conference in advance. The
conference would prepare the way for the 1932 CIAM conference to be held in Moscow,
with “Functional City” as its theme. Giedion hoped that Nordic participants could attend
the Berlin conference.480 Aalto participated in the 1931 conference, which took place
simultaneously with the Deutsche Bauaustellung (The German Building Exhibition), as
did his Swedish colleagues Sven Markelius, Uno Åhrén and Eskil Sundahl.481
478 Giedion 1931a and 1931b.

479 Aalto 1931a, pp. 35–39; Schildt 1997a, pp. 85–86, and Schildt 1997b, pp. 85–86.
480 Giedion’s letter to Aalto, May 11, 1931. Signum 10827, correspondence. AAM.
481 Mumford 2002, pp. 61–62.
122
2 . 8 B U I L D I N G PA I M I O
S A N ATO R I U M I N T H E M E D I A
A
alto’s article on Paimio Sanatorium was published in Byggmästaren
(The Master Builder) in late spring 1932 under the editorship of Uno
Åhrén, a member of CIAM. The article was published in the architecture
supplement482 shortly before Helsinki hosted the Nordic Building Forum in July
1932. By publishing the arcticle, Aalto and his Swedish colleagues wanted to attract
colleagues from the neighbouring countries to join an excursion to the Paimio San-
atorium building site. A group of Nordic delegates, including Gunnar Asplund,
visited Paimio in conjunction with the event.483
The article runs across four pages and begins with text. The illustrations include
10 diagrams and one photograph with the caption: “Betongstomme till solarium”
(Concrete Frame for the Sundeck). The image is dramatically simplified. The graphic
presented the key elements of Aalto’s design solution: the floor plan of the third
floor and a site plan which acquired its final shape regarding the workers’ residential
building only after this. Sections of A, B, and C wings as well as the arrangement
of the “standard patient room” were also presented. At this stage, the fixed desk in
front of the patient room window was made of concrete. The diagram also explained
the structure of the external corridor wall and the acoustic surface materials of the
partition walls between patient rooms. The ideas of ceiling radiators in the patient
room and the use of the ceiling surface for reflecting overhead light were introduced,
but their solutions had yet to take on their final shape. The patient room wardrobes
were also still work in progress and not finalised. The article in Byggmästaren also
included a diagram of the curving wall and the eastern end of the patient wing, illus-
trating the acoustic control in the space, with the caption: “...The rounding transmits
sound waves that travel longitudinally towards the wall section absorbing them (with
blankets and fur sleeping bags hanging on the wall)”. However, the corner of the
corridor was not eventually built as a curve. This difference raises the question: what
in fact was Aalto intending to build at that time and what message was he trying to
convey? If Aalto knew that the corner was never going to be built as a curve, did he
nonetheless wish to present this interior acoustic solution to his colleagues? If this
was the case, he clearly considered the idea more important than the actual outcome.
The press was used for creating a parallel reality to what was taking place on the build-
ing site. If Aalto, on the other hand, believed that the corner could be built as a curve,
other documentation provides no clues as to the stage at which the designs were
changed, why they were changed and on whose initiative. Since the rounded corner
is only presented in the drawing of the article, it is likely that this was merely the
architect’s idea that he rejected or was compelled to reject for one reason or another.
482 A
alto 1932a.
483 Schildt 1985, p. 86.
123
Fig. 2.8a. Concrete frame for the sundeck balconies. This photo was
published for the first time in Aalto’s article in Byggmästaren (The
Master Builder). Photo No. 50-003-091. AAM; Aalto 1932a, p. 83.
124
Fig. 2.8b. A diagram of the reflection of sound waves in
the patient wing corridor. Aalto 1932a, p. 83.
Aalto participated in the international modernistic discourse by demonstrating his

awareness of topical problems and his efforts to resolve the acoustic problem of the
corridor in an aesthetically successful manner.
Photographs could not be used with the article, because the construction was
ongoing and the architectural press was not in the habit of publishing pictures of
unfinished sites, as these were of no interest for the editors of the architectural
magazines. Aalto’s ideas were illustrated with drawings and one photograph. The
photograph shows, however, that the building was being constructed and that this
was not only a theoretical exercise. Using image collage in illustrating the washba-
sins also gave a sense of realism to the article.
In his article in Byggmästaren (The Master Builder), he highlighted solutions that
were of great interest from the perspective of international discourse. Since the Swed-
ish architectural press was widely followed in Finland, Aalto succeeded in raising
public expectations and bringing the highest-ranking leaders in the field of construc-
tion in Finland to inspect the building on its completion the following spring. Aalto
adopted Le Corbusier’s method of critically analysing design questions by breaking
them down into parts, as evident in the description of the design solution for the
patient room. It is also interesting to find that the solutions were not yet finalised. The
125
architect was comfortable with the nature his work as a process. Aalto used publicity
as his tool to clarify his thinking to himself, having to organise and verbalise his ideas.
The second description Aalto wrote about the architecture of Paimio Sanatorium
was published in a publication entitled Varsinais-Suomen tuberkuloosiparantola (The
Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland), which was published in 1933 by
the Building Board and edited by Secretary of the Building Board Ilmo Kalkas, the
former medical consultant, Medical Director of Paimio Sanatorium Markus Suk-
kinen and Alvar Aalto. This publication represented the official story of the project
and it was aimed at policy-makers including the State Medical Board, architects and
politicians. The book began with the Secretary and Ombudsman of the Finnish Asso-
ciation for the Prevention of Tuberculosis Severi Savonen’s article on the prevalence
of tuberculosis in Southwest Finland and Ilmo Kalkas’ long article on the execution
of the project. A shorter article on the architectural design was written by Alvar Aalto,
who was also in charge of the graphic design and photo editing of the publication. He
used Gustav Welin’s general views and Aino Marsio-Aalto’s detail photographs. This
publication included only a few diagrams. Aalto treated the copy and photographs as
separate elements throughout the publication. His own article ran across four spreads,
followed by the introductions to the floor plans of the ground floor and first floor in
the main wings. The photographic section began with large general views showing
the concrete frame with the same abstract photograph that Aalto had used in Byg-
gmästaren and the same images of the main building taken from the direction of
approach that he would later use in his project description in Arkkitehti (The Finnish
Architectural Journal). The captions indicated how the architect wanted viewers to
look at the images, for example: “Western elevation. In the foreground, balconies
of the nurses’ apartments.” This publication also included photographs of the wall
structure taken during the construction stage, with the caption stating that the wall
was insulated with brick and cork. Also included was a photograph of the armchair
type. The chair was not placed in any specific room, only rows of serially produced
bent wooden chairs were depicted. The image was not directly tied to the place. The
Varsinais-Suomen tuberkuloosiparantola publication included more photographs than
the article in Arkkitehti, including ones of the bakery, laundry, central heating pipes,
boiler room and a number of interior views taken by Aino Marsio-Aalto from an
angle that emphasised a personal experience.
126
Fig. 2.8c. Diagrams presented by Aalto in his article for Byggmästaren (The Master Builder). Aalto 1932a, p. 82.
127
The three articles in the publication and the series of photographs accompany-
ing Aalto’s article were followed by numerous advertisements. The advertisers were
the companies who had delivered materials for the sanatorium.484 Aalto had also
designed the advertisement’s graphic layout, using mainly Aino Marsio-Aalto’s
photographs as imagery. This was a way for Aalto’s practice to collect fees from
the advertisers in the form of user rights for the photos. In the advertisements, the
manufacturers highlighted their contribution to the sanatorium building projects,
and the copy was for the most part descriptive and explanatory of the work process.
The most interesting advertisement in terms of Aalto’s ideas is the one of Huone-
kalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas (Furniture and Building Work Factory), which does not
use images from the interior of Paimio Sanatorium but those of serially produced
chair parts and one illustrating the stackability of the metal-legged chairs. By using
photographs of Paimio Sanatorium in the advertisements, Aalto was able to give
thorough coverage of his project. The advertisements would have had a very different
look had the companies themselves decided on their design. Now, for example, the
advertisement had no company logos or typeface, as Aalto had visually harmonised
everything. In this way, Aalto was able to sell to the advertisers the attention of a
specific target group, the progressively minded decision-makers with the power to
commission building projects. An exception was Kolhon Saha (Kolho Sawmill), who
was not featured among the advertisers as they had failed to complete their delivery
to the specification. It is likely that Aalto deliberately excluded the company from
the advertisement section. Kolhon Saha was, however, keen to use the project as their
reference, and they did so in their brochure from 1938. In this brochure, the sawmill
boasts having completed the majority of the carpentry work485 for the sanatorium,
which was an exaggeration. Aalto’s publicity strategy was similar to Le Corbusier’s.486
The third project description written by Aalto was targeted at Finnish architects. It was
published immediately upon the inauguration of the hospital. The author explained that
he had been fairly free to create the overall composition as the area was relatively isolated.
484 Luth & Rosén from Stockholm (ceiling and panel radiators); August Louhen Rautasänkytehdas ja Valimo from
Turku (metal furniture), Suomen saviteollisuus (bricks); Oy Aage Havemanns Eft. Ab from Helsinki (x-ray and
light treatment equipment); The Insulite Company of Finland Oy from Kymi (insulite sheets for thermal in-
sulation), Turun Insinööritoimisto Oy from Turku (elevators); Turun asfalttitehdas from Turku (bitumen for the
roofs and stair elements); Rakennustoimisto Oy Arvi Ahti from Turku (reinforced concrete skeleton); Marttisen
Maalaus Oy (painting works); Suomen Gummitehdas Osakeyhtiö from Nokia (rubber flooring); Stockmann De-
partment Store (medical set of furniture, service etc.); Vähäsillan paja from Paimio (lampposts); Turun Vanuliike
from Turku (bedclothes, mattresses, towels, white coats and curtains); Hankkija sähköosasto (electric sys-
tems); Vesijohtoliike Onninen Oy from Turku (heating, water and sewage pipes); Enso-Gutzeit Osakeyhtiö from
Enso (sound isolating wallpaper); Oy Taito (lamps); A. B. Crichton-Vulcan Oy (steel windows and doors); Tutun
kaakelitehdas Oy from Turku (flooring tiles); Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas from Turku (furniture); Turun
Rautakauppa Osakeyhtiö from Turku (steel tubes, steel stirrups and cement); Kaune from Turku (glass and
glazing works); Oy. Metalliteos (kitchen equipment); Oy Wiklund from Turku (building materials and dishes);
Lämmityslaite Oy from Helsinki (stoves of the private apartments); Oy. Turun Autohalli from Turku (Chevrolet
lorry and van); Arabia (wash basins and sanitary fittings); Arthur Reimer from Helsinki (surfacing of the bath-
rooms); National Radiator Company from England represented by Bröderne Dahl, Willy Malmström in Helsinki
(Rayard ceiling radiators). Sukkinen et al. 1933, the advertisements; Aalto 1933b, pp. 79–91.
485 Kolho Oy 1934, p. 110.
486 See Colomina 1998 [1994].
128
Fig. 2.8d. Aino Marsio-Aalto’s photograph on mounting Enso wallpaper was used in an
advertisement featured in the publication Varsinais-Suomen tuberkuloosiparantola.
Photo No. 50-003-345. AAM.
The finalised group of buildings gave character to the landscape, a viewpoint that was
further enhanced by a landscape picture showing the main building as taller than
the surrounding woodland. The designer also explained how he had grouped different
functions into separate wings in the main building, accessed through communication
routes. The geographical orientation of the building had dictated the location of rooms.
A wing was mainly based on a side corridor, B on both a central and a side corridor
and C wing on a central corridor arrangement. Aalto stressed the significance of the
patient room design, with the external wall and window systems being of primary
importance. The orientation of the wing and the asymmetrical positioning of the
window allowed morning light to flood the room. The room was equipped with many
technological innovations, such as the ceiling radiator and the noiseless, specially man-
ufactured washbasins. The designer emphasised his consideration of the acoustic and
psychological impact of his room design. Here, Aalto did not discuss the furnishing of
the patient room The wards gave access to 24-bed sundecks and the roof terrace of 120
beds for the healthier patients. The large sundeck had plant containers with mountain
pines as the roof garden. The staff had also been provided with sunbathing canopies.
129
e separate volumes, C and B wings, were linked by a first floor corridor. C wing,
Th
the service building, housed rooms for handling raw materials and the kitchen on
top of each other, connected by a lift. The kitchen and serving areas were located on
the same level and storage had therefore been solved with “serial boxes with castors”.
Aalto also described the ventilation system in the kitchen.487
He recounted that the building was entirely built on a reinforced concrete frame,
the external walls being non-load bearing and that there were vertical and horizontal
channels running throughout the building for technical systems. The sundecks and the
A wing staircase had cast concrete façades, while the other sections were rendered with
a fluate488 and lime paint coating. He also described the special structural system of
the sundeck. All roofs were flat roofs. Aalto described the work process and introduced
key partners, such as the site foreman, the chairman of the Building Board, the senior
engineers, paintwork supervisors and the team at his own practice.489
Aalto did not explain in any detail the clinical spaces or methods or how the needs
of clinical practice had been taken into account in the design. He overlooked explaining
spaces relating to surgical operations and other active treatment forms, such photother-
apy. If we compare the project description of Paimio Sanatorium to that of the Red
Cross Hospital (1932)490 and the Women’s Hospital (1934)491 in Helsinki, which were
designed by Jussi Paatela, completed practically simultaneously, and published in the
same magazine as the Paimio Sanatorium project, it is noticeable how Aalto completely
omits discussing the design problems arising from medical treatment or the descrip-
tions of electrical and ventilation systems or structural typification. The description of
Paimio Sanatorium focused exclusively on the architect’s insights and the architectural
design of the sanatorium.
The 13-page in-depth article was rich in illustrations, with 22 photographs taken
by Gustav Welin and 11 diagrams. The photographs were recently taken both outside
and inside the sanatorium. Aalto used general views from three angles. The building
was more than its main elevation; it was a spatial experience that could be approached
from a number of different angles. The general view of the cour d’honneur between two
wings was asymmetrical and emphasised a personal perception of the building. The
photograph of the dining hall was taken from the lower section of the space towards
to double-storey space. The cross-sections of the wings were the same as those used
in 1932 in Byggmästaren. The section of B wing showed sunlight penetrating deep
into the building, the principle which Aalto used to persuade decision-makers to
allow him to keep his original design. The diagrams included a collage illustration
of the structure of the washbasin and the projection of the patient room floor plan
487 Aalto 1933b, pp. 79–91.

488 Fluates were fluosilicates used as liquids to waterproof concrete and materials. The technique was commonplace
in the 1920s and 1930s. Panu Kaila’s email correspondence to the author, February 26, 2003.
489 Ibidem.
490 Paatela 1933, pp. 49–57.
491 Paatela 1934, pp. 141–150.
130
and ceiling. The diagrams of the patient room were now depicted in further detail
than the similar diagrams published earlier in Byggmästaren. Only the collage image
describing the principle of the washbasin was the same as the one used a year ear-
lier. Aalto selected the photographs to emphasise the role of the reinforced concrete
structure, the patient room, the transparency, hygienic detailing and the aesthetic
of an industrial environment. The captions were short and factual while the copy
provided a more in-depth explanation of the rationalistic principles adopted in the
design. The article was aimed at architects and the photographs illustrated the theo-
retical underpinning to the design as discussed by Aalto in the article text. Here, the
text and the illustration did not form a communicative tension of opposites, as in Le
Corbusier’s articles.
Aalto recycled the same visuals in the three articles on the main building of Paimio
Sanatorium. In his article of 1932, aimed at his Swedish counterparts, he had included
almost exclusively only drawings. In contrast, the 1933 publication Varsinais-Suomen
tuberkuloosiparantola included mainly photographs. The 1933 article in Arkkitehti (The
Finnish Architectural Journal) had twice as many photographs as drawings. Aalto did
not set up any provocative juxtapositions in these articles; he rather aimed to direct,
through his explanatory texts, how the photographs and diagrams ought to be inter-
preted. It is especially interesting to note the large number of advertisements in the
Varsinais-Suomen tuberkuloosiparantola publication, in which Aalto used targeted adver-
tising as a tactic in a similar way that Le Corbusier had done in the advertisements in
L’Esprit Nouveau (The New Spirit).492 The diagrams Aalto included in his article in
Byggmästaren of the rounded corner indicate that Aalto used the media space to build
architectural meaning, in a similar manner to Le Corbusier.493
492 Le Corbusier 1998 [1923, 1924 and 1925]; Colomina 1998 [1994], p. 190.
493 See Colomina 1998 [1994], pp. 104 and 114.
131
2.9 THE WIZARD OF THE NORTH
I
n January 1933, Giedion asked Aalto for a paper on the hospital for the summer’s
CIAM conference, focusing on the viewpoint of the physiological well-being of the
patient. He was interested in images and drawings of Paimio Sanatorium for the pur-
pose of publishing projects descriptions in Cahier d’art (The Art Journals) and Bauwelt
(The Building Magazine) magazines.494 In an undated letter sent prior to the conference,
Giedion repeated his request to Aalto to deliver a paper in Athens on the sanatorium.495
CIAM’s fourth conference in August 1933 was eventually held on a cruise from Marseilles
to Athens and back, instead of in Moscow, which had been the original plan. The theme of
the event was “Functional City”. Whilst on board the ship, the conference delegates intro-
duced studies on the urban development of their respective countries. Following the same
format, this type of study had already been prepared at the preparatory CIRPAC confer-
ence in Berlin beginning from June 1931.496 Aalto joined the conference in Athens.497 He
did not give the paper requested by Giedion at the conference.
The other Finnish delegate at the conference, Nils Gustav Hahl, attended the whole
conference. Göran Schildt has intepreted him as a representative and loyal intermediary
of Aalto.498 Hahl introduced the urban development of Stockholm on the journey out.499
This probably happened because no Swedish delegates were present. This is an indication
of the close and confidential relationships between the Swedish and Finnish architects
involved in CIAM. The urban development of Stockholm was topical that year because
of the competition on the planning of Nedre Norrmalm district,500 in which Aalto was
also participating.501 Other Nordic delegates on the ship were Poul Hansen and Arno
Sørenson from Denmark and the Norwegians Hermann Munthe-Kaas and Frithjof
Reppen.502 Gropius did not attend the conference and Aalto, again, missed Le Corbus-
ier’s paper, as this was given during the first part of the cruise.503 Aalto had by this stage
still never heard a paper given by Le Corbusier or Walter Gropius in person.
As the keynote speaker Le Corbusier stressed the nature of town planning as a
three-dimensional science and tall building height as an essential characteristic. In his
view, people’s lives revolved around a 24-hour rhythm, which had a bearing in the relation
between heights and distances. Town planning was about a choice between expansion
and growing density. The latter led to the use of steel and reinforced steel structures to
494 The letter from Giedion from Aalto discussing matters relating Wohnbedarf and the additional personal message
were dated January 26, 1933. Signums 10844 and 10845, correspondence. AAM.
495 Giedion’s letter to Aalto on July 17, 1933. Signums 10846 and 10849, correspondence. AAM.
496 Le Corbusier 1964a [1933], pp. 187–189.
497 Aalto set out on his journey too late, and stopped on the way in Budapest. Schildt 1985, p. 90 and p. 95.
498 Schildt 1985, pp. 90–91.
499 Mumford 2002, p. 81.
500 See the backgrounds of the international Great Norrmalm Competition held between 1932 and 1933. See Hall 2009,
pp. 117–121.
501 In the Great Norrmalm Competition, Aalto proposed replacing the existing structure with a monotonous open-
block structure based on only a few different building types. Hall 2009, p. 120.
502 Mumford 2002, p. 77.
503 Le Corbusier held his presentation on July 30, 1933. Mumford 2002, p. 79.
132
allow city dwellers to enjoy the essentials of life – the sky, the trees, the light. Le Corbusier
held that housing was the most important one of four life functions defined by CIAM
(dwelling, work, recreation and transport). He criticised the garden city model for its lack
of organisation. Cars and the railway had recalibrated the scale. The land in cities should
be freed up to benefit the community and be allocated to a master plan.504
After the conference, Giedion was entrusted with compiling the proceedings of the
conference. Architectural historian Erich Mumford from the United States described
the correspondence between Giedion and Le Corbusier reflecting the change in the
European political climate. In Giedion’s opinion, CIAM was faced with the fundamen-
tal question whether to be a technological or political entity. In the given circumstances,
Giedion felt that the former was the only option. If the latter role were adopted, they
could achieve nothing, for as an active political actor, CIAM could only exert any influ-
ence in a socialist system.505
British Professor John Gold has described the difficult process that ensued after the
Athens conference. The conference failed to release a public statement, although Giedion,
among others, wanted to give the opposite impression. There had been tensions between
German and French delegates throughout the early 1930s, and the members could not
reach unanimity on the essence of the Athens conference. The first draft was further edited
by the Swiss and Parisian members in autumn 1933. Eventually, in 1936, a decision was
made to publish two publications, one for the general public entitled Town Planning In
Creation and one, a more scientific one, entitled The Functional City. The editors were una-
ble to find a publisher for either edition, and at the next CIAM conference of 1937, the
responsibility for the publication fell on the Spanish colleague José Luis Sert, who soon
went into exile in the United States due to the Spanish Civil War. The publication finally
came out in 1942 under the title Can Cities Survive? As Gold points out, the work now
served more like a source for current city planning and a retrospective on the situation 10
years earlier than a forward-looking manifesto.506
Le Corbusier formulated his own opinion in his 1933 book La Ville Radieuse (The
Radiant City). He gave his description of the conference in the Chapter “Mobilisation of
the Land”. On the outward journey from Marseilles to Athens, the delegates had introduced
their sheets and problematics that their respective cities were facing. On the inbound journey,
the delegates had engaged in group work. Le Corbusier used this material in the Chapter
“Plans”, in which he attempted to summarise his views on the problems in the planning of
certain cities, such as Stockholm, and his suggested solutions. He saw current city planning
practices as a driver of inequality offering the wealthy a host of options, while millions were
left unable to fulfil their basic needs at any point in their lives.507 The conference limited
its discussion to technical aspects of architecture and city planning.508 Le Corbusier was
504 Mumford 2002, p. 79.

505 Ibidem, p. 87.
506 Gold 1997, pp. 56–77, particularly pp. 64–77.
507 Le Corbusier 1964a [1933], p. 187.
508 Ibidem, p. 188.
133
Fig 2.9a. Aalto’s entry to or sketch for the Great Norrmalm Competition. The Royal Castle and
the Storkyrkan church that dominate the landscape of the old town of Stockholm sink in the
background of the enormous multi-storey blocks. Aalto proposed replacing the existing structure
with an open-block structure. Drawing No. 13-8. The drawing has been cropped and edited. AAM.
disappointed with the outcomes of the conference. A group of experts had, based on their
joint analysis, arrived at a statement saying that land was to be acquired for public use but
also stating that the decision fell outside the professional remit of the architect.509
Why did Aalto refrain from giving a paper on Paimio Sanatorium to the group of
international architects? One explanation may lie in the uncertainty of his attending the
conference in the first place. However, a more likely explanation is his being intimidated
by the politically delicate atmosphere and not considering CIAM the right forum for
him. Aalto managed to avoid any political pitfalls by adopting this line of action. After the
conference cruise, however, he sent copies of the Varsinais-Suomen tuberkuloosiparantola
(The Southwestern Finland Tuberculosis Sanatorium) publication to his friends who
were involved with CIAM.510 Giedion responded at the end of that year, saying he was
fascinated by Paimio Sanatorium based on the material received. He was curious to know
whether it was Alvar or Aino who had left a stronger imprint in the smallest of details.
Giedion called Aalto the Wizard of the North. He expressed his wish that Aalto should
convey any materials on the building to the international press via CIAM and not direct-
ly.511 After this, Giedion’s correspondence with Aalto became less frequent, although it
never completely ended.
Giedion had expressly wished that the sanatorium would be publicised through
CIAM’s publication channels. Publishing through the channels Giedion recommended
would have helped to promote furniture Aalto had designed and the Wohnbedarf com-
pany was selling and producing.512 Due to his involvement in the furniture trading of
Wohnbedarf, Giedion had a personal interest in promoting Aalto’s work. Aalto operated
in the international circuit as an active communicator and unique interpreter of ideas who
left his mark on the debate through his work. CIAM offered Aalto a path for gaining
international publicity for his designs. His close relationship with Giedion, Sven Mar-
kelius and Walter Gropius has been widely discussed in earlier research. The situation in
the Europe of the early 1930s was politically tense and economically difficult. Modernist
architects, in their conscious promotion of new ideology, were easily branded as left-wing.
509 Le Corbusier 1964a [1933], p. 189.

510 See Jokinen and Maurer 1998a, p. 57.
511 Giedion’s letter to Aalto on December 6, 1933. Signum 10851, correspondence. AAM.
512 Arthur Rüegg investigated the collaboration between Aalto and the Wohnbedarf company, represented by Giedi-
on. Rüegg 1998, pp. 119–133.
134
Fig. 3a. The image inked in for publication shows a
simplified version of the seven-storey sundeck structure
supported on one column row. Drawing No. 50-414. The
1 2 3 4
The Building
of Paimio
Sanatorium
137
T
his chapter is an empirical presentation of the organisation and parties that
were involved in the building of Paimio Sanatorium and explains the general
economic situation in Finland at that time, and how the project was funded
and executed. I have selected the concrete frame, windows, patient room furnishings
and installation technology as the specific focus for investigating the building process
on the basis of Aalto’s own writings and design documents.
For European modernist architects, the reinforced concrete frame represented a
solution to the problems of urban development and, for Alvar Aalto, using the new type
of structure was a welcome challenge as its application as a complete system in building
construction at the turn of the 1930s was a novelty in Finland.513 The use of concrete
structures also required the ability to carry out structural calculations, a skill that many
Finnish engineers acquired through studying and working abroad. “The Decision of
the Council of State Concerning Instructions on Concrete and Reinforced Concrete
Structures” from 1928 is an example of a new approach in construction. From now on
the reinforced concrete structures were to be based on scientifically tested knowledge.
Building firms became aware of the necessity of concrete building and many adver-
tised their competence in this area, which they were indeed rapidly accumulating. The
reinforced concrete frame of Paimio Sanatorium was designed in mutual collaboration
between the architect and structural engineer.
Another key theme is the windows. The title of Aalto’s competition entry, Piirretty
Ikkuna (Drawn Window), alone is an indication of the great importance of this element
for the architect. Windows were crucial in the architectural ideology that emphasised
the importance of sunlight and fresh air. The main building of Paimio Sanatorium was
fitted with the more traditional wooden windows as well as metal windows and hybrids
thereof. A further proof of the great importance of the window designs is the large
number of architectural window drawings that remain.
In his article “Asuntomme probleemina” (The Dwelling as a Design Problem), Aalto
discussed possibilities to increase the functionality of small dwellings, for which reason
the furniture needed to be lightweight and movable. In the small apartments presented
for CIAM, the spaces were well appointed despite their compact size. The apartment had
a private space for each family member together with a versatile, modifiable shared space.
The concept of a minimum dwelling was probably inspiring to Aalto when designing
the patient room of Paimio Sanatorium, as the architectural drawings included a great
number of details designed for the patient room. He seemed to approach the design
513 Hennebique’s reinforced concrete construction system had gained popularity in the early 1900s, following the
Paris Exposition Universelle. One of the largest and most significant early reinforced concrete buildings is Eliel
Saarinen’s Railway Station in Helsinki, which was based on a competition win and the reinforced concrete frame
was designed by structural engineer Jalmar Castrén. Reinforced concrete structures were also used in industrial
buildings, such as the new facilities for the City of Helsinki Gas and Electricity Company, which were jointly de-
signed by Selim A. Lindqvist and Jalmar Castrén, warehouses and commercial buildings dating from the first few
decades of the 1900s. One of the key examples of the latter is the Stockmann Department Store in Helsinki from
1930, designed by architect Sigurd Froserus. Putkonen 1991, pp. 21–76.
138
Chapter 3 | The Building of Paimio Sanatorium
task through an exact analysis of ‘each object separately’, which he also demanded from
his Swedish colleagues in his critique on the Stockholm Exhibition in 1930.514
Paimio Sanatorium was built in a rural landscape, some 30 kilometres east of Turku.
Paimio was within easy reach by train. The distance from the station was approximately
three kilometres, so the location was fairly isolated. The project included the building of
a road, a regional electricity network, district heating network as well as a water supply
and sewage system in a pristine, rural landscape. The early 1900s was a period of rapid
development in infrastructural technologies, and the methods were yet to be established.
The electrification of the countryside of Southwest Finland began as late as in the
1910s.515 At the same time, a key objective for both hospital design and architectural
ideology for that period was to achieve a high level of hygiene. Regional systems were
interlinked with the sphere of urban planning, which was topical at the time, and which
Aalto discussed in his article “Bostadsfrågans geografi” (The Geography of the Housing
Problem).516 The role of fresh air was also repeatedly debated at CIAM meetings. Le
Corbusier, in particular, questioned the role of windows in ventilation and introduced
the possibilities of mechanical ventilation as an option. The project team and designers
had to take into account the installations517 both as regional systems and, on a smaller
scale, within the building.
514 Aalto 1930d, pp. 119–120.

515 See Haikala 1987, pp. 10–14.
516 See Aalto 1932c, pp. 86–92.
517 Martti Välikangas used the term ‘installation technology’ when explaining the heating, water, sewage, ventilation
and electricity systems showcased at the 1931 Berlin Building Exposition. Välikangas 1931, pp. 106–108.
139
3 .1 T H E S O C I A L S TA K E H O L D E R S O F
T H E S A N AT O R I U M B U I L D I N G P R O J E C T
3.1.1 STATE MEDICAL BOARD HELD THE KEYS TO FUNDING
In 1929 the Finnish state promoted the founding and operation of public insti-
tutions for the treatment of tuberculosis by passing an Act518 and a Decree519 that
provided the fundamental framework for building new institutions, and for repairing
and maintaining old ones with state funding. Before the legislation came into effect,
municipalities had formed federations, which had initiated the building of district
sanatoria. The Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland, more commonly
known as Paimio Sanatorium because of its location in the municipality of Paimio,
was one of the large public sanatoria, whose building was financed and supervised
by the state under the new legislation, and which was erected immediately after the
new Act had entered into force in 1930.520 These sanatoria represented a new type of
public-sector institution and were indicative of social reform in Finland.
According to legislation, it fell within the remit of the State Medical Board to decide
which institutions at a given time were to receive state aid for founding costs, as prescribed
in the general plan approved by the Minister of the Interior based on the State Medical
Board’s proposal and within the limits of appropriations allocated in the state budget. In
January 1930, the State Medical Board submitted its plan concerning tuberculosis sanato-
ria to the Ministry of the Interior for approval.521 Prior to 1930, state aid had been granted
to cover founding costs of six sanatoria.522 These hospitals had from 150 to 200 beds and
their budgets varied between FIM 15,100,000 to FIM 20,500,000, with the Tuberculosis
Sanatorium of Southwest Finland being the most expensive.523 The plan also included
proposals for seven other sanatorium projects that met the criteria and that had yet to
receive state aid.524 The plan excluded sanatoria built by the larger municipalities, as in
the opinion of the State Medical Board, their plans were mostly still at an early stage of
planning. The only exception was the Vyborg Tuberculosis Sanatorium, which had been
partly funded with donations.525 However, the most important tuberculosis hospital at
518 L aki valtionavusta 269/1929. (Act on State Aid to Municipal Mental Hospitals and Hospitals for Tuberculosis
Patients and for Promoting Work to Combat Tuberculosis 269/1929).
519 Asetus valtionavusta 270/1929. (Decree on the Implementation of the Act Given on the 31st Day of May, 1929,
on State Aid to Municipal Mental Hospitals and Hospitals for Tuberculosis Patients and for Promoting Work to
Combat Tuberculosis 270/1929).
520 The State Medical Board’s proposal to the Minister of the Interior on the granting of state aid for tuberculosis
sanatoria, dated January 8, 1930. Record No. 114:30 8/1 200 Y III. State Medical Board 1930 Da:7. NA.
521 Ibidem.
522 These were the sanatoria of Central Finland, Kontioniemi, the Swedish-speaking municipalities of Uusimaa
Region, Northern Savonia (Tarinaharju), Oulu Region and Southwest Finland. Ibidem.
523 Ibidem.
524 These were the sanatoria of Satakunta, North Häme, Finnish-speaking municipalities of Uusimaa Region, South Häme,
South Karelia (Rauha), Central Ostrobothnia (Oulainen and Swedish-speaking municipalities in Ostrobothnia). Ibidem.
525 Ibidem.
140
the time was the City of Helsinki’s Tuberculosis Sanatorium in the district of Laakso,
which could house 390 patients and was municipally funded.526 The State Medical Board
pointed out in its plan that, at the time of passing the legislation, it had been estimated
that the appropriations allocated to tuberculosis sanatoria would total FIM 20,000,000
annually. Provided the appropriations remained at the same level, the proposed sanato-
rium building projects would be completed by the end of 1936.527
Building tuberculosis sanatoria was a major investment in public health. Similar
hospitals were built throughout Europe and the United States. In 1931, the Vienna
International Hospital Congress focused on discussing the building costs of hospitals,
which was a concern widely shared by the international community.528 In 1930, the
Ministry of the Interior wanted to appoint a committee to find ways to reduce the
founding costs of hospital building costs and it urged the State Medical Board to make
a proposal on the matter. The State Medical Board had a special hospital department,
the duties of which included reviewing the planning documents of sanatoria as well as
monitoring the progress of the building projects and overseeing the state aid granting
process. When reviewing the drawings, it targeted the costs specifically by reducing
the cubic volume of the buildings as long as this did not compromise the operations
of the sanatorium.529 In conjunction with this, the State Medical Board had ensured
that the hospitals would meet the criteria for modern medical establishments and that
they would be able to operate with as few staff as possible. According to the opinion of
the State Medical Board, the rising building costs of hospitals were due to the addition
of radiology, surgical and outpatient departments, and the purchasing of new medical
technology and equipment. In the State Medical Board’s view, it was the duty of the
Building Board appointed to oversee the building of a hospital in order to keep costs
under control, and it was reluctant to propose a new committee specifically to find cost
savings.530 Such a committee would have removed power from the medical advisers of
the State Medical Board, so it was not in the interest of the executive officials of the
State Medical Board to establish such a body.
The application documentation required for state aid included a founding plan
specifying the purpose of the institution and the number of beds, a description of the
site, the intended buildings and a site plan. Also required were drawings of the actual
hospital buildings, specifying the location and height of rooms, the number of beds to
be placed in each room, the structure of windows, and lighting, heating and ventilation
equipment, as well as cost estimates.531 The compilation of the documentation was the
first responsibility of the architect.
526 Heiniö 1968, pp. 453–512; Laurila and Tandefelt 1968, pp. 653–661.
527 The State Medical Board’s proposal to the Minister of the Interior on the granting of state aid for tuberculosis
sanatoria, dated 8 January 1930. Record No. 114:30 8/1 200 Y III. State Medical Board 1930 Da:7. NA.
528 Distel 1932.
529 Ibidem.
530 Records No. 58/11:28 K.D and No. 30/10 9777 III. State Medical Board 1930 Da:10. NA.
531 Asetus valtionavusta 270/1929, pykälä 3 (Decree on State Aid 270/1929, Section 3).
141
3.1.2 A COLLABORATION OF MULTIPLE MUNICIPALITIES
The project of building the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland was

launched by the Finnish speaking Members of Parliament of the area, and Bernhard
Heikkilä532 from municipality of Rusko was designated as initiator. Representatives
of the 38 rural municipalities of the area had convened towards the end of 1927 and
appointed a committee to prepare the matter under Heikkilä’s leadership. Three months
later, representatives of as many as 48 municipalities participated in the project and, in
a meeting held on March 5, 1928 they made a decision on founding the Tuberculosis
Sanatorium of Southwest Finland with 150 hospital beds, and on the appointment of a
Building Board to receive and approve the municipalities’ applications for their quotas
of hospital beds.533 The municipalities established a joint Federation of Municipalities
to gain state funding. Since 1930, after Turku had joined, the association had 52 mem-
bers534. By the competition stage the number of hospital beds had risen to 184 and
it increased by a further hundred beds when Turku was included in the project. On
completion, the hospital had a total capacity of 286 patients.535
The Building Board oversaw the building project from 1928 until 1934. The Board
comprised of seven members and a secretary. The Building Board of the Tuberculosis
Sanatorium of Southwest Finland officially convened 49 times in the years 1928–
1934.536 The first meeting, on March 5, 1928, held immediately after the meeting of
representatives, was attended by all the seven members of the Board and its secretary.
Heikkilä acted as the Board’s Chairman and the other members included two Members
of Parliament, two farmers, a labourer and a primary school teacher.537 Two of the
MPs represented the Rural League and one the National Coalition Party. All had a
background in farming and two also served as bank managers.538 After the City of
532 Bernhard Heikkilä (formerly Artig, 1882–1931) was a farmer, lay judge and MP for the National Coalition Party
May 5, 1924–October 20, 1930. Parliament of Finland website.
533 Törrönen 1984, pp. 32–33.
534 The Building Board made a decision regarding a motion to the municipalities’ meeting of representatives to
accept Turku to the project under certain conditions. Building Board February 10, 1930, Section 1. PSA.
535 Markus Sukkinen, Medical Director of Paimio Sanatorium, reported to the State Medical Board that each unit of
the sanatorium would have two four-bed rooms, 19 two-bed rooms and one private room, 47 beds per unit in total.
The number of units was to be six, so the total number of beds in the units would be 282. In addition, the central
unit would have two two-bed rooms for those requiring surgery and 11 beds in the special care unit. The total
number of hospital beds was thus 297. As the beds in the special care unit were not included in the bed count, the
State Medical Board confirmed the number of beds to be 286 and set the daily fee at FIM 20, provided that half
of the beds would be free of charge. Record No. 339. The State Medical Board 1933 Ea:60. NA.
536 Minutes of the Building Board. PSA.
537 Chairman Bernhard Heikkilä from Rusko, Deputy Chairman Paavo Saarinen from Perniö and one of the ordinary
members, Juho Pilppula form Laitila, were also MPs. The other ordinary members were labourer K. Hellberg from
Halikko, primary school teacher Paavo Pyysalo from Vehmaa, farm owner Antti Raita from Naantali Rural Parish
and farm owner Onni Rantasalo from Yläne. Törrönen 1984, p. 33.
538 Paavo Saarinen was a member of the Rural League parliamentary group between 1924 and 1933. Prior to the proj-
ect, he had worked as a farmer and as a bank manager for Kansallis-Osake-Pankki (The National Bank) in Perniö
between 1929 and 1932. Juho Pilppula was also a member of the Rural League parliamentary group between
1927 and 1948, and served as the Chairman of his parliamentary group. Before his parliamentary career, he had
first worked as a farmer and then as a bank manager at Laitilan Säästöpankki (Laitila Savings Bank) from 1926.
Parliament of Finland website.
142
Turku joined the project on February 15, 1930, Kaarlo Thomander539, master builder,
and Jaakko Ranta, Deputy Mayor of Turku, were appointed as new members to the
Building Board.540 After Heikkilä’s death in December 1931, his work as Chairman
of the Building Board of the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland was con-
tinued by Antti Raita. Architect Aalto participated in the work of the Building Board
from June 1929, when the Board made the decision to commission Aalto’s office to
design the Sanatorium.541 Physician Markus Sukkinen542 was appointed as the Board’s
medical consultant in December 1929,543 after which he also attended the meetings of
the Board. The Building Board chose Sukkinen as the Sanatorium’s Medical Director
in May 1932544 based on his professional merits during the construction phase.545 The
Building Board did not convene at Paimio, and only made site visits on a needs basis.546
The Building Board was responsible for communication with the authorities, such
as the State Medical Board, which, as the guardian of the state coffers approved the
designs for the Sanatorium. The Head of the Hospitals Division of the State Medical
Board, Senior Medical Officer Edward Johan Horelli’s brother Medical Director Väinö
Valpas Horelli,547 influenced the project as a member of the Competition Committee.
Väinö Horelli was then working on a PhD research dealing with surgical treatment of
pulmonary tuberculosis.548 The Building Board invited statements from specialist doc-
tors on the location of the site and on Aalto’s competition entry prior to ordering the
architectural plans. During the construction phase, the State Medical Board provided
statements on request. State aid was to be applied annually and, in conjunction, the
Building Board was required to report on budget compliance and the progress of the
work. The State Medical Board maintained constant control.
For the preparation and implementation of decisions, the Building Board appointed
from among its members a Building Committee, operating under the authority of
the Board, including three members and a secretary. The architect and the consulting
539 Kaarlo Esaias Thomander was born in Halikko in 1883 and graduated from the Turku Industrial School building
construction department in 1906 and from the road and water construction department in 1907. He had also
studied electrical engineering between 1904 and 1905. He began his career as a draughtsman at the Building
Construction Unit of City of Turku Building Department. He was a partner at Veljekset Thomander (Thomander
Bros.) drawing and construction office between 1909 and 1914. Thomander held several positions of trust in
Turku City Council and served on a number of technical boards and committees in the 1920s. He also served as
the joint director of Oy Radioala from 1927 onwards, as a member of the Board of Turun Suomalainen Säästö
pankki (Turku Finnish Savings Bank) from 1923 onwards and as member of the Board for Turun Transito-Satama
transit harbour from 1929 onwards. Tolonen 1930, p. 556.
540 Törrönen 1984, p. 42.
541 Building Board 27 June 1929, Section 2. PSA.
542 Born in 1891, Markus Martialis Sukkinen graduated as a physician in 1916 and served as a physician at Alavus
Tuberculosis Sanatorium in 1920–1922, as a Junior Physician for a month in 1922, as the acting House Officer of
Satakunta Sanatorium and the House Officer at Central Finland Sanatorium for a total of five months. Prior to the
sanatorium project, he had made a study trip to Denmark in 1924 and Germany in 1928, where he paid a second
visit to in 1930. He chaired the City of Turku Healthcare Board between 1932 and 1933. Soininen 1935, p. 510.
543 Building Board December 8, 1929, Section 1. PSA.
544 Building Board May 18, 1932, Section 3. PSA.
545 Building Committee May 17, 1932, Section 1. PSA.
546 For example Building Committee August 26, 1931, Section 1. PSA.
547 Soininen 1935, pp. 180–181.
548 Soininen 1935, pp. 180–181.
143
physician participated in the work of the Committee from its second meeting onwards,
and civil engineer Kaarlo Albert Kilpi,549 appointed as clerk of works, from the fourth
meeting onwards. The Chairman and secretary were the same as the Board’s. During
the construction years of the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland, between
1930 and 1933, the Building Committee convened a total of 58 times. Aalto took an
active role in Board and Committee meetings, being present almost without exception,
and absent only when the matters at hand did not require his presence. The contrac-
tors did not participate in these meetings, but separate meetings were held with them.
Apparently, no site meetings, where all the parties involved would have been present,
were held550. The organisation of the building project was strictly hierarchical.
The Committee’s remit was practical and it carried out a great deal of preparatory
work. The Building Board was not able to thoroughly familiarise itself with all decisions
related to the construction and even major decisions, such as making contracts on water,
sewage and heat piping and drawing up the budget, were entrusted to the Building
Committee. The Committee, in turn, delegated purchasing decisions, including those
on windows and doors, to Aalto. Aalto played an active role in many purchasing deci-
sions, including selecting the suppliers for the reinforced concrete frame and radiant
heaters, waste water treatment system and furniture.
The Building Board approved Aalto’s motion on the scheduling of the building
work partly on a cost-plus basis for the project organisation and partly as separate
subcontracts.551 The work was supervised by the Clerk of Works’ Office of the Build-
ing Board.552 In addition to clerk of works Kilpi, the site was supervised by another
master builder, Väinö Tähtinen.553 The Building Committee was authorised to invite
contract tenders and to consider the extent of the first contract, i.e. the construction
of the main building skeleton, and the sequence in which subsequent contracts would
be performed.554 The appendices of the minutes of the Building Board and Building
549 Kaarlo Albert Kilpi was born in Kaarina in 1885 and graduated from the Turku Industrial School building construction
department in 1908. He worked at Wanadislunden’s water tower construction site in Stockholm between 1912 and 1913
and studied at the Technical School of Sterlitz reinforced concrete engineering department in Germany between 1913
and 1914, graduating as a reinforced concrete engineer in 1922. Kilpi had made study trips to Germany, the Netherlands.
Southern Sweden, Denmark and Belgium and worked in the 1920s as Technical Director for Turun Sementti Valimo Oy,
owned by Juho Tapani, as a contractor in Turku together with master builder K.V. Lamminen between 1924 and 1929 and
as an extraordinary draughtsman for Turku harbour construction office from 1929 onwards. Tolonen 1930, pp. 213–214.
550 There was no site meeting minutes book in the archives of PSA.
551 Workers housing, pump room, garages and the mortuary would be implemented as cost-plus work by the proj-
ect organisation. The dwellings of state paid employees would be implemented either on cost plus basis by the
project organisation or as contract work. The actual construction work of the sanatorium as well as the water
mains and pumping station, general plumbing, general electrical work, elevators, doors, windows, painting,
kitchen machinery, technical medical equipment and fittings would be carried out as separate projects. Extra
work would be performed or implemented on a cost-plus basis by the project organisation. Building Board
March 15, 1930, Section 9. PSA.
552 Aalto 1933b, p. 86.
553 Born in 1902, Väinö Tähtinen also served as the General Foreman on the construction site of Standard. He had
graduated from the Turku Industrial School building construction department in 1924 and worked as the junior
master builder at the construction site for the Turun Suomalainen Säästöpankki new build between 1925 and
1926 and as a master builder for the constructions sites of Housing Company Lounas and Olavi new builds in
Turku between 1927 and 1928 and Maarian Sähkö Oy transformer station new build in 1929. Tolonen 1930, p. 586.
554 Building Board 3 May 1930, Section 3. PSA; Building Committee May 9, 1930, Section 1. PSA.
144
Committee meetings show that most of the tenders had been addressed directly to
architect Aalto, that is to say, he had requested them as a representative of the Building
Board. He therefore had a great influence on the choice of contractors.
The work was carried out as a part contract under client supervision. In a contract of
this type, the financial risk for the outcome rested with the developer, who was respon-
sible for the acquisition of both labour and materials, and was therefore exposed to price
fluctuations. The adopted form of contract, the in-house contract, was chosen based on
the assumption that building costs level would have decreased from that of 1928–1929.
The inspection of the buildings and furnishings of the Tuberculosis Sanatorium
of Southwest Finland was conducted on February 10–11, 1933. The inspection was
attended by Y.J. Sadeniemi, Director General of the National Board of Public Build-
ing; S.I. Launis, architect; Torsten Kranck, engineer; Edward Horelli, Senior Medical
Officer; and K. Oksanen, mechanical engineer.
3 .1 . 3 T H E A R C H I T E C T S B E H I N D PA I M I O
Aino Marsio-Aalto and Alvar Aalto’s architectural practice was selected to design of
the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland through an open architectural
competition. Initially, the intention of the Building Board had been to organise an
invited competition with entries from architects Jussi Paatela, Eino Forsman and Ilmari
Ahonen. In July 1928, before launching the competition, the Building Board toured
other sanatoria to gain deeper knowledge about relevant issues. They visited the City
of Helsinki Tuberculosis Sanatorium, designed by Eino Forsman, the Takaharju and
Harjavalta Satalinna Sanatoria, designed by Onni Tarjanne, the latter of which also
housed a paediatric department designed by Jussi Paatela.555
Forsman himself introduced the 400-bed hospital in Helsinki to the Board, still
under construction and considered state-of-the-art at the time. The Board realised
during the excursion that the sanatorium differed from the one designed for Paimio in
that the Helsinki hospital was designed also to treat the very ill, terminal patients who
needed to be hospitalised just to prevent them from contracting the disease further. Pai-
mio Sanatorium was aimed at patients with pulmonary tuberculosis who were at least
10 years of age and who could be expected to recover fully or at least regain their ability
to work.556 The Board was impressed by the modern amenities of the new institution:
the modern lifts, bathrooms and washbasins. It noted that the level of hygiene should
be good, which was achieved through placing only one or two patients in each room
and isolating units from each other. The organisation of the building provided much to
learn, the Board opined. In Punkaharju, Medical Director Niilo Mäkinen introduced
his realm, the Takaharju Sanatorium, which represented a slightly older building style
555 Building Board 7 July 1928, Section 4. PSA.

556 Tietoja parantolaan pyrkijöille (Information for Persons Applying to the Sanatorium). Anon 193-.
145
and was designed by architect Onni Tarjanne. At the time of its completion in 1903, it
had been Finland’s first tuberculosis sanatorium that was accessible also for the poor.
Mäkinen mentioned its downsides being the lack of concentration in functions and the
shortage of space, as well as the narrow, dark corridors and the placement of sundecks in
the centre of the building. He also objected to situating the boiler room within the main
building.557 The Board also visited Tarjanne’s Harjavalta Sanatorium, which had been
completed in 1925. The Board noted that some of the disadvantages they had witnessed
in Tarjanne’s older design at Takaharju had been remedied, but again, for example, the
sundecks had been placed in the middle of the main building and not at the ends, which
the Board saw as a preferred arrangement. The sanatorium also lacked lifts big enough
for hospital beds and certain washing and kitchen facilities were criticised in the report
as being too small. The bakery, in which the products were baked using steam, was
considered modern by the Board. The recently completed 50-bed paediatric unit (1927)
designed by Jussi Paatela made a positive impression on the Board.
Forsman and Paatela were both accomplished hospital designers. Ilmari Ahonen,
the third architected invited to participate in the initial invited competition, instead had
no merits in hospital design specifically.558 The Board’s decision to organise an invited
competition was debated outside the meeting to the extent that it revoked its decision.559
The debate or decision on organising an open competition has not been recorded in the
minutes, possibly because of the delicate nature of the matter. Reviewing competition
rules was a topical issue for the architectural profession, which is the reason why the
competition procedures regarding the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland
would have elicited critique among Turku-based architects. It is also the most likely
reason why the Building Board approached the subject with such vigour and saw best to
retract and change its decision. The new competition rules issued by the Finnish Asso-
ciation of Architects were adopted only in June 1929, when the competition period had
already closed. They provided ethical guidelines and, for example, private negotiations
and any exchange of opinions between the competition jury members and participating
candidates were from now on forbidden during the competition.560
In autumn 1928, the Building Board of the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of South-
west Finland issued the following announcement: “Esteemed Architects are invited
to participate in a competition for drawing up the designs for said sanatorium with
184 sick beds”.561 The announcement effectively excluded representatives of all other
professions except architects, and futhermore, the wording of the Finnish original
also made it clear that the architects were assumed to be male. The competition jury
557 Building Board October 27, 1928, Section 1. PSA.

558 Anon 1948, p. 8.
559 Building Board September 27, 1928, Section 3. PSA.
560 Rules for Architectural Competitions June 5, 1929. Suomen Arkkitehtiliitto (Finnish Association of Architects) 1937a,
pp. 383–384.
561 The announcement of the architectural competition of the tuberculosis sanatorium of Southwest Finland.
Varsinais-Suomen tuberkuloosiparantolan rakennuslautakunta (The Building Board for the Tuberculosis
Sanatorium of Southwest Finland), 1928b.
146
Fig. 3.1.3a. Detail of the competition-stage drawing No. 50-26. The drawing has
been edited. AAM.
SPECIFICATION
[Volumes] [m3]
Sun decks facing the south directly, additional deck
Service building 5,000
alternatively on patient pavilion roof, summer decks
Sanatorium 26,550 protected by walls and plantations.
Sun deck 2,500 Patient rooms facing towards morning sun, the non-
opening window reaches the floor, low radiator wall
Medical Director’s villa 1,700 20 centimetre thick to allow for favourable diagonal
light, steel windows with double quartz glazing.
Junior Physicians’ residence 2,500
Workers’ apartment building 2,200 The tall buildings have slanted, heat and water
insulated concrete roofs that can be laid with “tiles”.
Morgue 90
Timber-structured tile roof with a steep pitch would
Total 40,540 be too complicated for the footprint of the building.
Tile roofs for the small buildings.
Patient room door with “Stahl-Holz” structure, cork

sound proofing and rubber.
Floor covering rubber and linoleum.
Service building facing the morning sun.
Corners rendered into a rounded shape.
147
comprised Bernhard Heikkilä, Chairman of the Building Board and farm owner; Jussi
Paatela (1906–1962) and Väinö Vähäkallio (1886–1959), architect members elected by
the Finnish Association of Architects; Akseli Koskimies,562 Professor elected by the
Finnish Association for the Prevention of Tuberculosis and former Director General
of the State Medical Board; and elected by the Building Board, Severi Savonen,563 the
Secretary and Ombudsman of the of the Finnish Association for the Prevention of
Tuberculosis and Medical Director Väinö Horelli.564 As an architect of industrial and
commercial buildings, Väinö Vähäkallio was familiar with the development of con-
struction technology and the demands of rationalisation.565 Vähäkallio had also been a
member of the architectural competition jury for the 1927 Southwest Finland Agricul-
tural Cooperative Building, which elected Aalto as the winner.566 Paatela, in turn, had
specialised in hospital design and during the competition he served both as an advisor
for the Hospital Unit of the State Medical Board and as a lecturer of architecture at
562 Akseli Yrjö Koskimies (formerly Forsman) was born in Turku in 1869. He graduated with a Master’s degree in
philosophy in 1890, as a physician in 1892 and as Licentiate of Medicine in 1896. His entire medical career was
remarkably multidisciplinary. He made study trips to the Nordic countries and Germany in the 1910s and 1920s. In
his early career, he served as the Medical Officer of Health in the municipalities of Ilmajoki and Seinäjoki, Medical
Officer of Health in the City of Hämeenlinna, House Officer at the City of Helsinki Health Department for the pre-
vention of venereal disease, Senior Medical Adviser at the State Medical Board 1911–1915 and 1917–1920, Director
General of State Medical Board 1920–1927 and Medical Director at Mutual Life Insurance Company Salama since
its establishment in 1910. He held notable Finnish and international positions, such as the chairmanship of Finnish
Medical Society Duodecim in 1909. Koskimies was a member of several organisations and associations including
the Finnish Insurance Association and the German Association for Insurance Science, and he was one of the
founding members of the Finnish Medical Association and member of its advisory board from 1927, the Chairman
of the Finnish Society of Dermatology, a member of the Finnish Psychiatric-Neurological Association and the Nor-
dic Association of Dermatology, and he was made an honorary member of the Swedish National Association for
the Prevention of Tuberculosis in 1929. Koskimies had participated in the work of a committee appointed for the
prevention of tuberculosis as early as 1889, and he had served as a member of the planning committee of the City
of Helsinki Tuberculosis Sanatorium in 1912. Koskimies was given the honorary title of Professor in 1927. Soininen
1935, pp. 253–255.
563 Severi Sefanias Savonen was born in Turku in 1886 as a son of a painter. He graduated as a physician in 1908,
as a Licenciate of Medicine in 1913 and specialised in pulmonary diseases in 1915. Savonen made a remarkable
number of study trips in the 1920s and early 1930s to Scandinavia, UK, Austria, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Germa-
ny, France, Italy and the Netherlands. He participated in the Nordic tuberculosis specialists’ conferences in 1921,
1925, 1927, 1929, 1931 and 1933. He served as the ombudsman and secretary of the Finnish Association for the
Prevention of Tuberculosis from 1925, having previously made a career as a physician at a number of sanatoria.
He held positions at Finnish, Nordic and international tuberculosis specialist associations and was a sought-after
lecturer. Savonen also wrote a large body of literature on tuberculosis, both popular and scientific books and
articles. Soininen 1935, pp. 466–467.
564 Väinö Valpas Horelli was born into a farming family from Kokemäki in 1882. He graduated as a physician in
1907, he became a Doctor of Medicine in 1930 with the thesis Keuhkotuberkuloosin kirurgisesta hoidosta (On
the Surgical Treatment of Pulmonary Tuberculosis); in addition he published other publications on the topic of
tuberculosis in the early 1930s. Horelli conducted study trips to Sweden, Norway, Denmark and Germany in the
1920s. He mainly practiced his profession in Southwest Finland, where he held several positions, including acting
Junior Physician at Turku Regional Hospital, Medical Officer of Health for the City of Uusikaupunki, Physician at the
District Psychiatric Hospital of Southwest Finland, Physician for the railway construction project between Turku
and Uusikaupunki and Medical Director for Satakunta Sanatorium from 1924. Horelli also held positions of trust in
local politics. Soininen 1935, pp. 180–181.
565 During the competition period, he served as the Technical Director of the building department of the Confedera-
tion of Finnish Co-operatives. The organisation in question observed a rationalistic building method and collective
design approach, in which the contribution of individual designers remained anonymous. Niskanen 2005, passim.
and especially pp. pp. 53–54.
148
Helsinki University of Technology.567 The architect members of the jury were, in other
words, experts in hospital design and rationalist construction methods.
The architectural competition programme listed the buildings to be designed
together with the spatial requirements of the functions to be situated in the main
building and provided guidelines for the grouping of spaces. Furthermore, the com-
petition programme specified separate buildings for the Medical Director’s residence,
Junior Physicians’ and the Administrative Director’s residences, a maintenance build-
ing and a residential building for the staff. The four separate wards in the main building
were to accommodate 184 beds. The rooms were to be designed for either two, three or
four patients, 25 cubic metres of indoor air per patient. Each ward was also to have two
private rooms. The sanatorium building was also to accommodate offices and examina-
tion rooms, spaces on each ward for the use of staff and patients as well as communal
spaces for all patients. In addition, kitchens, rooms for the use of nursing and domestic
staff, communal spaces and equipment, and an isolation ward with its own entrance for
patients with contagious diseases were also to be located in the main building. Each
ward was to have two toilets for the use of patients and one for the nursing staff.568
Alvar Aalto sent sketches for his competition entry while the competition period
was ongoing to the State Medical Board and received in response eleven knowledgeable
comments on his proposal. The response letter had the pencil marking “E.J. Horelli”,
which would have been added at the receiving end – the letter was not signed, but Aalto
knew it was sent by Senior Medical Officer Edward Johan Horelli, brother of one of the
competition judges. It was suggested in the comments that the patient rooms be made
smaller;569 the patient corridors widened from 1.8 metres to 2 metres; the window area
of patient rooms halved in size from 8.4 square metres, as not all patients could tolerate
direct sun; the 10 centimetre thick partition walls between patients rooms were diffi-
cult or impossible to sound insulate; wards designed for 42 patients were far too large;
the phototherapy room needed to be more centrally situated; the Junior Physician’s
residence and night nurses’ rooms were not allocated suitable locations; the kitchen
was small; there were not enough cellar spaces; the 240 square metre dining hall was
oversized for 180 patients; the staff dwellings were too small, and it was not suitable
that the toilet door in them opened directly to the living room.570
It would appear that Aalto did not concern himself with professional ethics
when striving towards success in the competition any more than the Senior Medi-
cal Officer was aware of such rules, as he agreed to respond to the architect. Perhaps
the Senior Medical Officer’s concern that the hospital should become the best it
567 Henttonen 2009, pp. 145–148 and p. 343.

568 [Varsinais-Suomen tuberkuloosiparantolan rakennuslautakunta] (The Building Board for the Tuberculosis Sanato-
rium of Southwest Finland) 1928a.
569 The sketch allocated 30 cubic metres and 9.5 square metres per bed while the State Medical Board considered
that 24 cubic metres and 7.5 square metres would suffice. A letter from the State Medical Board to Alvar Aalto,
January 2, 1929. Correspondence. AAM.
570 Ibidem.
149
could be and that public money should not go to waste when such a significant new
piece of legislation had been passed, overrode his regard for any moral concerns
over due process.
The competition period closed on January 31, 1929, by which 13 entries had been
submitted. The competition entries were placed in three classes by the jury: one entry
in the lowest class, eight in the middle class and four in the top class, three of which
were awarded. The jury was unanimous as regards the winning entry, submitted under
the title Piirretty ikkuna (Drawn Window), by Alvar Aalto. The second prize was
awarded to a team of three architects, Kaarlo Borg, Otto Flodin and Paavo Hanstén
for their entry, Valo (Light). The third prize went to Antero Pernaja, Martta Ypyä
and Ragnar Ypyä for their entry, Ammon-Ra.571 The Award Committee proposed
purchasing Erik Bryggman’s entry, entitled Ympyrään piirretty kolmioristi (Triangular
Cross Drawn Inside a Circle), for its architectural merit, but the Building Committee
rejected the proposal.572
The jury considered Alvar Aalto’s Piirretty ikkuna architecturally interesting, but
somewhat “restless and pretentious” as a whole. The arrangement of rooms was con-
sidered pleasing and their layout successful. However, the dimensioning of the build-
ing was criticised: the main stairway was too narrow, the patients’ bathing facilities
overestimated and the cubic volume of the building insufficient. The jury favoured
economy in the basic solutions, and felt that a wider frame would reduce the external
wall surface and thus the heating costs.573
571 In her doctoral dissertation, architect Leena Makkonen has analysed Martta and Ragnar Ypyä’s entries in the
architectural competitions for Paimio Sanatorium and South-Carelia Sanatorium in 1928–1929. Makkonen 1999,
pp. 51–56.
572 Building Board February 25, 1929, Section 2. PSA.
573 Anon, 1929b, pp. 42–46.
150
Fig. 3.1.3b. Main building ground floor plan of the competition-stage design. Drawing No. 50-25.
The drawing has been edited. AAM.
151
The entries gaining second and third place, Valo and Ammon-Ra, were similar in
their basic concepts. The buildings had L-shaped floor plans within an orthogonal
coordinate system, with the wards leading off side corridors, located on different storeys
in one wing, and an open sundeck wing continuing from it. The entrances were at the
joint of the L-shaped building. The jury criticised the placing of individual functions
in the building and the dimensioning of the spaces. Also criticised was the use of rib-
bon windows on the façade of the Ammon-Ra entry, despite the fact that the building
envelope was a load-bearing structure. All the prize-winning entries had flat roofs.574
In his competition sheet, Aalto justified the use of flat roof by pointing out that a
timber-framed tile roof with a steep gradation would be too complicated to execute
given the shape of the floor plan.575
In February 1929, the Building Board gathered to study the drafts and jury state-
ments of the architectural competition. The Board was convinced by Aalto’s entry but,
before they commissioned him to finalise the drawings, they consulted Severi Savonen
and Niilo Mäkinen to ascertain their preferred candidate.576 While Severi Savonen,
who was the Secretary and Ombudsman of the Finnish Association for the Prevention
of Tuberculosis and Niilo Mäkinen, the Medical Director of Takaharju Sanatorium,
supported choosing Aalto’s entry, they presented a list of comments.577 They criticised
many details that were central to the overall architectural design, such as the outdoor
sun patios, which they did not think were fulfilling their purpose as the sanatorium
was situated in the middle of a forest and the patients could rest in the fresh air in the
woods. They also assumed that the trees to be planted in front of sun balconies would
not provide sufficient shade to the halls and the halls would therefore be too hot. Their
second point of criticism was the patient room window that reached to the floor, as it
would make floor cleaning impractical. The two doctors recommended taller windows
to secure sufficient daylight. Thirdly, the doctors recommended that the ward sisters’
rooms be moved away from the ward and to a nurses’ floor, which could be located in
the service wing. Fourthly, the Medical Director’s private office, where he could receive
guests and hold meetings with patients’ family members, was to be located next to his
surgery. The radiology department and dark room were to be located on the other side
of the Medical Director’s surgery, and the Administrative Director’s office was to be
located between radiology and the Junior Physicians’ office. Fifthly, the phototherapy
department needed to be larger, and the doctors suggested it be placed next to the bath-
ing facilities. Sixthly, a space for a stage platform was to be reserved in the lounge and
dining hall as well as a small projector room for screening films. Seventhly, the doctors
criticised the arrangement of the dining hall: “According to the drawings, unless we
have misinterpreted them, the ceiling of the dining hall partly adjoins the ceiling of the
574 Ibidem.
577 Severi Savonen and Niilo Mäkinen’s statement to the Building Board concerning Alvar Aalto’s competition entry
on April 4, 1929. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
152
next floor, resulting in a vault-like space at the top of the room. The northern wall of
the dining hall has not been drawn a single window. In such a situation, the airing of
the dining hall will be extremely difficult. We find that such a vault construction could
be omitted altogether and some windows added on the northern wall”.578 Eighthly,
each ward should have a designated room for handling meals. Ninthly, the doctors
considered the potential future extensions and were of the opinion that the kitchen and
its auxiliary spaces had been scaled too small. According to the doctors, the pharmacy
and laboratory also needed to be relocated.579
Once the expert statements had been received, the Building Board decided to
request further statements on Aalto’s drafts as well as opinions on any necessary changes
to them from Medical Director Väinö Horelli and Administrative Director Setälä of
Harjavalta Sanatorium.580 Horelli’s statement addressed many of the key character-
istics in Aalto’s proposal. He agreed in his statement with Savonen and Mäkinen on
the superfluous nature of the sun balconies. In Horelli’s view, it was inappropriate to
place men and women in the same hall or in halls on top of each other. On such
moral grounds, he recommended that the halls were built at both ends of the patient
building and also suggested that the building would be slightly reoriented to align
more with the sun balconies, as he saw no justification for the room windows partly
facing the east. He wrote: “I hope that with this suggested change we can also shorten
the corridor somewhat between the building housing the dining hall and the kitchen
building. Assuming that I have understood the proposal for sun balconies correctly,
built in the proposed manner, they will prove unnecessarily expensive. Small pillars at
the front of the balcony will not interfere with the appearance of the balcony, and are in
any respect an impediment.” Horelli also commented on the patient room windows:
“As ingenious as the window arrangement would appear to be regarding the amount
of daylight allowed into the rooms, I would nonetheless advise against them. I am,
again, referring to Savonen and Mäkinen’s statements on the matter and would also
emphasise the fact that this method would result in the creation of colder wall surface
– the external wall is only 20 centimeters thick and the window arrangement would, in
my understanding, prove inordinately expensive.”581
In Horelli’s view the second bathing facilities in the basement could be removed
as well as the disinfecting and sorting room for bath sheets, with the latter freeing up
space for a phototherapy room. He also saw no need for a screen between bathtubs,
and suggested that the pharmacy and the laboratory were to be relocated nearer to
the doctors’ offices. In addition, he expended advice on the location of rooms reserved
for handling laundry. He suggested that the rooms for cleaning equipment, bed linen,
medicine storage and a cloakroom be removed from the southern side, which in his
578 Ibidem.
579 Ibidem.
580 Building Board April 27, 1929, Section 2. PSA.
581 Ibidem.
153
opinion should be entirely dedicated to patient rooms and lounges. In Horelli’s opinion,
the place for the nurse’s room was not on the ward, neither should they live in a
special unit, which according to him would be an unpopular arrangement. He opposed
the four-bed room as these were exactly twice the size of a twin room and therefore
would not add space or bring savings. He pointed out that the patient rooms had no
ventilation channels and that they were difficult to place in the small space that the
drawings allowed.582 Neither was Horelli content with the doctors’ surgery section nor
with the workshops, which were too small. He criticised the ceiling of the second-floor
dining hall and called for windows on the northern wall as well as a film projection
room. He would have situated the stage in the lounge and spaced out the central pillars
to accommodate this. He also suggested the addition of a kitchen manager’s office, and
noted that the kitchen was cramped and the service staff dining room far too small.
The kitchen was placed too far from the dining hall and particularly the wards, making
the distance between the kitchen and a room approximately 100 metres. He suggested
that the food-serving pantry in each ward could be replaced by a service trolley. In
his view, the number of lifts needed to be reduced from seven to three. The nurses in
the third hall did not need a dining room, but a lounge and a reading room allocated
for their use would be appropriate. The kitchen maids’ rooms, which were twin rooms,
seemed confined. He also thought it advisable to move the House Officer’s residence
away from the nurses’ unit.583
The architect was expected to take into consideration the critique provided by the
experts. Many of the issues mentioned by the doctors were central to Aalto’s architec-
tural design. Adjusting the design in accordance with the demands that the doctors
had made was a challenge. The Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland and
architect Alvar Aalto signed two separate contracts. The design contract governed
the execution of drawings, work specifications and cost calculation584 against a fee
of FIM 300,000. Master drawings and the cost calculations were to be completed
by December 1, 1929, after which the Building Board reserved the right to submit
them for review by expert physicians. The architect was expected to make alterations
to the drawings without separate remuneration, if the expert physicians’ statements so
required, and the developer unanimously concurred. A similar procedure was applied
in case the State Medical Board required alterations to the drawings as a condition
for their approval or for granting state aid. The developer paid the fee in instalments.
The first three instalments, FIM 170,000 in total, were to be paid against master
drawings, cost calculation, work specifications and the standard working drawings.
The remaining fee was to be paid on the completion of working drawings.585
582 Ibidem.
583 Ibidem.
584 The students had to prepare cost calculations and a work specification as parts of their diploma work at Helsinki
University of Technology at the time Aalto was a student in 1916–1921. Härö 1992, p. 215.
585 Contract No. 1 between the Building Board of the Sanatorium of Southwest Finland and architect Alvar Aalto on
June 28, 1929. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
154
SANATORIUM FOR 184 PATIENTS, DECEMBER 1929
Fig. 3.1.3c. Main building ground floor plan in December 1929. There were still three four-person patient
rooms per ward. Drawing No. 50–62. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.1.3d. Main building sun deck plan in December 1929. Drawing No. 50–63. The drawing has been
edited. AAM.
155
According to the second contract, the architect undertook the general management
of the sanatorium construction work including the back office and administrative
work, and negotiations with the developer, subcontractors and contractors. He was also
required to take responsibility for similar duties during the actual construction phase. In
addition to building planning, the architect’s remit also included drawing up complete
designs for furnishings and special equipment as well as programmes, managing the
procurement thereof and the management of construction work concerning the entire
sanatorium, except for accommodation intended for private use. The architect’s fee for
the general management of the construction work was FIM 250,000, of which FIM
70,000 was paid against the interior design drawings.586 The architect’s fee was not
tied to the building costs. The contracts Aalto entered into gave him a great deal of
power on the project, particularly in terms of the interior design, as he was in charge of
procurement for the interior.
According to Alvar Aalto, the design team at his practice consisted of, in addi-
tion to himself, architects Aino Marsio-Aalto, Erling Bjertnæs, Harald Wildhagen,
Lauri Sipilä and Lars Wiklund.587 Aino Marsio-Aalto588 and Harald Wildhagen589
were between 30 and 40 years of age, while the other designers were approximately
30 years old. The Norwegian Wildhagen had the most work experience, having
previously worked in Berlin, among other places. Another Norwegian Bjertnæs590
and the Finn Wiklund591 had graduated in the same year, 1925, the former in Oslo
and the latter in Helsinki. The Finn Sipilä had only recently received his degree and
was the youngest in the team.592
Alvar Aalto typically did not mark his drawing with his initials and he only signed
the set of drawings addressed to the State Medical Board and some of the drawings
intended for exhibitions or publications. Apparently only few, probably less than five
586 Contract No. 2 between the Building Board of the Sanatorium of Southwest Finland and architect Alvar Aalto, June
28, 1929. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
587 Aalto 1933b, p. 86.
588 Aino Aalto (née Marsio) was born in Helsinki in 1894, and she studied architecture at Helsinki University of Tech-
nology between 1913 and 1920. She initially worked at Oiva Kallio’s firm and from 1923 at Gunnar A. Wahlroos’
practice in Jyväskylä until 1924, when she started working together with Alvar Aalto and also married him the
same year. Heporauta 2004, pp. 12–45.
589 Harald Carlsön Wildhagen was born in Bergen in 1895 and he graduated from the Norwegian University of
Technology in 1919. At the beginning of his career, he had served as an assistant for M.A. Bachke’s practice in
Trondheim and for Philip Holtmann’s practice in Berlin in 1922. He worked for Aalto’s practice from 1928 to 1930.
Between 1930 and 1934 he worked as a private practitioner in Oslo together with Edgar Smith Berentsen. Register
of Norwegian architects. NN.
590 Erling Bjertnæs was born in Fianarantsoa on Madagascar on November 13, 1899. He completed his architecture
studies at the Norwegian University of Technology in 1925, and at the beginning of his career worked at the
architectural practice of Alvar Aalto for three and a half years in Turku, Finland. He also worked at the practices
of Norwegian architects including Blakstad, Munthe-Kaas, Arneberg, Reinhart and Reppen for about two years.
During the period 1931–35, he spent part of his time practising privately. Register of Norwegian architects. NN.
591 Lars Alexander Wiklund was born in Angelniemi, Finland, in 1899 and finished his architecture studies at Helsinki
University of Technology in 1925. He was Swedish-speaking. Anon 1948, p. 578.
592 Lauri Rafael Sipilä was born in Mynämäki in 1904 and graduated as an architect from Helsinki University of
Technology in 1929. He had previously served as a lecturer at the Helsinki Industrial School between 1928
and 1929. Anon 1948, 479.
156
Fig. 3.1.3e. The Norwegian architects Harald Wildhagen and Erling Bjertnæs celebrating the
Christmas at Aaltos’ in 1929. Photo No. 91-005-010. AAM.
of the drawings were by Aino Marsio-Aalto.593 Most of the drawings bear the initials
of Lauri Sipilä, Lars Wiklund, Erling Bjertnæs or Harald Wildhagen. In addition, the
initials “T.T.” that appear in at least five architectural drawings belong Teuvo Takala,594
who was the most senior of Aalto’s staff, a model builder and draughtsman.595 A person
who used the initials “H.H.” also contributed to the design process but his identity is
not known, although it is possible that it can be attributed to a student by the name of
Hugo Harmia. Aalto never mentioned Takala or the person behind the initials “H.H.”
in the project description that appeared in Arkkitehti (The Finnish Architectural Jour-
nal). It is quite possible that he found it inappropriate to credit a draughtsman or a
student as members of such a high-profile team.
593 Only few of the architectural drawings for the Paimio Sanatorium competition bore the initials “A.A.” or the draw-
ings can be credited to Aino Marsio-Aalto, based on the hand-writing. The drawings in question are for the interi-
ors of the staff dwellings. AAM.
594 Arne Hästesko’s email to the author concerning the identity of “T.T.” on January 7, 2012.
595 Teuvo Takala was born in Jyväskylä as a son of a master builder who had been taught by his father to make
building drawings and models. He knew Aalto’s family for some time having lived as their tenant. Takala worked
at Aalto’s practice since it was established all the way until the 1950s. Schildt 1982, pp. 125–126.
157
The architects used sequential numbering on certain sets of drawings, but a large
proportion of the drawings were unnumbered. Amongst the material, certain design
documents would seem to form coherent series, allowing us to form a picture of the
progress and different stages of design and construction work. The material included
freehand sketches, which were linked with the competition stage.596 The competi-
tion-stage drawings were easily identifiable thanks to the vignette marking on their
top left corner.597 The vignette showed the patient room window with the word “motto”
above. The title of the competition entry was Piirretty ikkuna (Drawn Window). The
competition sheets were identifiable also by the hand-written number ‘9’, which was
the number assigned by the competition jury to the entry.
Once the competition result had been announced and the design contract signed,
Aalto set out to design the four-storey sanatorium for 184 patients. The decree stipu-
lated that drawings on the actual hospital buildings specify the location and height of
rooms, the number of beds to be placed in each room, the structure of windows, and
lighting, heating and ventilation equipment.598 Aalto presented his designs to the
Building Board in December 1929, as scheduled.599 The Building Board took note
that the architect had for the most part incorporated the changes as required by var-
ious parties during the competition stage.600 The Building Board refrained, however,
from confirming the drawings at this time, as it had in the meantime entered into
negotiations with the City of Turku on their possible participation in the project. The
Turku authorities had approached the Building Board before Christmas 1929 and
enquired under which conditions it could join the project.601 A confirmation on Turku
joining the project was received in February 1930, which meant that the number of
beds was to be increased by one hundred, while the number of staff would remain
unchanged from the original 70. Aalto was assigned the task of updating the design to
accommodate the new situation and his fees were raised accordingly.602 The changes
created a need to improve the efficiency of the staff facilities. A series of drawings has
been preserved that relate to the design phase in the spring of 1930, when Aalto was
compelled to reassess the building design that had been fairly complete by this time.603
Aalto based his changes on this existing work but also created some new designs from
scratch. For example, the load-bearing structure has been marked in red pencil on top
of the older black pencil drawings. The orientation of the main staircase was changed
by 90 degrees, the number of floors in the A wing increased by two, the elevations
were redesigned and the solution for the reinforced concrete frame took shape. I n the
596 Drawings from No. 50-638 to No. 50-654. AAM.

597 Drawings from No. 50-24 to No. 50-33. Drawing No. 50-655 is the vignette drawing presenting Aalto’s window
design, which did not appear as an independent drawing amongst the competition sheets. AAM.
598 Asetus valtionavusta 270/1929, pykälä 3. (Decree on State Aid 270/1929, Section 3).
599 Drawings from No. 50-62 to No. 50-65, No- 50-68, No. 50-71 and No. 50-73 are of this design phase. AAM.
601 A letter from the Town Council of the City of Turku to the Building Board on December 19, 1929 is attached to the
minutes. Building Board December 22, 1929, Section 2. PSA.
602 The fee was raised by FIM 69,000. Building Board March 15, 1930, Section 11. PSA.
603 Drawings from No. 50-656 to 50-708. AAM.
158
SKETCHES OF THE LOBBY AREA FROM EARLY 1930
Fig. 3.1.3f. The load-bearing structure is Fig. 3.1.3g. Sketch of the lobby area from
marked with red. The main stairs have early 1930. Drawing No. 50–686. AAM.
been rotated by 90 degrees. Drawing
No. 50–684. AAM.
Fig. 3.1.3h. Sketch of the lobby area from early Fig. 3.1.3i. Sketch of the lobby area from
1930. Drawing No. 50–687. AAM. early 1930. Drawing No. 50–688. AAM.
159
basement of the B building, the bathing facilities for male and female patients were
combined and the work spaces previously placed in the basement were now relocated
to the fourth floor, from where the flats with recessed terraces were in turn removed.
The patio from the top floor of the B wing was removed altogether. The toilets in A
wing were relocated and the ward nurse was given a larger office. In December 1929,
the wards had still included three four-bed rooms, but by April 1930 there was only
one on each ward. The design matured and became more detailed between December
1929 and April 1930.
Aalto introduced the third version of his design to the Building Board in April
1930. The Building Board accepted it and authorised Aalto to submit his drawings to
the State Medical Board for approval.604 Aalto filed the application for approval two
days later. In addition to drawings, the application was appended with general building
specifications, a summary of construction costs, a table of furnishings and 12 standard
drawings605, which were binding for the contractor. The State Medical Board approved
the design without amendments.606 This series of drawings was signed by Alvar Aal-
to.607 This third stage of design can, with good reason, be treated as the master drawings
for the project, as it served as the point of departure for the actual construction work.
In May 1930, Aalto’s office was completing the C series of the working drawings,
including the floor plans, sections and elevation drawings for buildings A, B, C and D.
The floor plans specified the scaling of the frame, the window and door codes as well as
materials marked with symbols for reinforced concrete, bulk concrete and heat-insulated
walls. The C series drawings beared Erling Bjertnæs’ or both Bjertnæs and Wildhagen’s
initials, except for one, which beared Bjertnæs and Wiklund’s initials.608 Two drawings
dated July 1930 beared the initials “H.H.” Two C-series drawings from 1931 beared the
initials of Erling Bjertnæs, with one also marked with Lauri Sipilä’s initials.
The D series drawings were dated between 1930 and 1932, and the numbering ends
at 197. They were initially drawn by Erling Bjertnæs, the person behind the initials
“H.H.”, and Lars Wiklund. From August 1931 until November 1932, the drawings
were created by Lauri Sipilä and Lars Wiklund. Sipilä’s contribution became notable
towards the end of the project. These drawings covered, among other aspects, details
of various features, drawings for technical systems, interior drawings, fixture designs
and images of doors. The archive material included an E series with drawings dated
between July 1930 and June 1931. They were mainly door and window details drawn
by Lars Wiklund.
604 Building Board April 8, 1930. PSA.

605 The standard drawings presented the floor edge trims; stair and stair coverings; handrails; roof edges and roof;
roof railings; window casing; patient room window; glass-concrete; open electrical line; blinds (external); ventila-
tion duct cap; ceiling rose. Record No. 2466. State Medical Board 1930 Ea:19. NA.
606 Ibidem.
607 Drawings Nos. 50-72a, 50-74, 50-75, 50-76a, 50-97a, 50-98a, 50-102a, 50-108a and 50-485. AAM.
608 The name label on drawing No. 50-101 is damaged and the information is not available. AAM.
160
MASTER DRAWINGS, APRIL 1930
Fig. 3.1.3j. Master drawing of the B wing plans, April 1930. The top image shows the basement floor plan.
The ground floor (in the middle) houses treatment rooms and surgeries, doctors’ offices and the operating
theatre. The plan of the first floor (bottom) shows the dining hall and lounge. There was access from the
dining hall to the kitchen wing via a footbridge. Drawing No. 50-72a. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
161
Some of the drawings were marked with a special ‘standard’ stamp. Most of such
drawings were dated between August 1929 and September 1932, while some were
undated. The numbered standards 201–206 were not related to Paimio Sanatorium, as
earlier mentioned in Chapter 2.6 “The Horizontal Sliding Window”. The door stand-
ards were to do with the plate frame, curved threshold and the cladding materials of the
flush panel door. The plate frame was used for patient room doors and it is quite possible
that the curved threshold was also realised in patient rooms. The fixture standards were
for a glass shelf, presumably designed for the operating theatre609, various tables and
iron shelves in the work spaces610 and patient room furnishings, hand-washbasins and
wardrobes611. Standards for windows included, among others, the numbered standard
signed by Aalto, drawn in October 1930.612 Visual presentations, sheets and montages
created for publications, which contain both drawings and photographs, formed a sep-
arate group. These images were created in 1932 or later.
The catalogued material held by the Alvar Aalto Museum also included unfinished
or for some other reason undated drawings related to Paimio Sanatorium. The archives
also included drawings for other buildings within the sanatorium compound and later
alterations, which have been excluded from the present research. Some detail drawings
were originally from Aalto’s other projects.
609 Drawings Nos. from 50-199 to 50-201. AAM.

610 Drawings Nos. 50-175, 50-176 and 50-190. AAM.
162
Fig. 3.1.3k. Master drawing of the site plan, April 1930. The building was approached from southwest
along a road. The yard between the main wings had a car park and plantations. On the southside of the
A wing was a geometric garden as a contrast to the surrounding pine forest. This site plan, which was
the one presented to the State Medical Board, did not include the Medical Director’s residence, or the
terraced house for Junior Physicians and the Administrative Director. Detail of drawing No. 50-74. AAM.
Fig. 3.1.3l. Master drawing of the ground floor plan, April 1930. The main staircase was turned 90
degrees to be east-west-oriented. There was now only one four-bed patient room in each ward. There
was an open ward in every six wards. Drawing No. 50-75. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
163
Fig. 3.1.3m. Master drawing of two plans of the C wing, and plans of the D wing, the district heating
plant, in the middle, April 1930. Drawing No. 50-76a. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
164
Fig. 3.1.3n. Master drawing of the north façade of A wing, April 1930. The north-facing elevation of the
sundeck wing with its closed back wall on the left. Drawing No. 50-97a. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.1.3o. Master drawing of the south façade of A wing, April 1930. Drawing No. 50-98a. The drawing
has been edited. AAM.
165
Fig. 3.1.3p. Master drawing of the façades and section of the district power station, and the B wing
south façade, April 1930. Drawing No. 50-102a. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
166
Fig. 3.1.3q. Master drawing of the C wing long façades facing southeast and northwest, April 1930.
Drawing No. 50-108a. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
167
3.2 THE FINANCIAL
C I R C U M S TA N C E S S U R R O U N D I N G
THE BUILDING PROJECT
3 . 2 .1 P R O J E C T G R E W , T H E B U D G E T W A S
E X C E E D E D A N D F U N D I N G TA N G L E D
The Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland was one of the largest facilities to be
built in Finland during the early 1930s. In spring 1930, after the City of Turku had joined
the project, the project budget was FIM 22 million.613 The Building Board assumed that
three quarters of this sum would be covered by state aid and the rest of the funding would
be covered by the participating municipalities.614 The City of Turku, which joined the
project only later, was not obliged to pay any more per bed than the other municipalities.615
However, the costs increased by FIM 5.5 million between spring 1930 and the comple-
tion of the building in April 1933. Furthermore, the state was unable to cover the statutory
three quarters of the funding. What is noteworthy is that, although the number of beds
was increased during the project, this did not entitle the project to increased state aid.616
Based on the state aid granted for the project, it can be inferred that the budget approved
by the State Medical Board was FIM 15.5 million. The final budget, FIM 27.5 million,
had therefore nearly doubled, and the share of state aid was 42 percent of the real costs.
The project required supplementary funding, and raising such funding became a rou-
tine part of the Building Board and Building Committee’s work. The local authorities had
probably foreseen this much earlier, and had therefore selected two bank managers to serve
on the Board, to bring financial competence to the table. The construction work required
short-term loans, since both the state and municipal shares were paid late.617 For example,
municipalities reserved beds gradually, so their share of funding was initially small, increasing
only later.618 In addition, cities were unable to raise loans for longer than two years without
applying for state permission, a process which the Building Board found cumbersome.619
The Minister of Finance was fully aware of the slowness of the state aid payment, and in
1931 he advised the Chairman of the Building Board to negotiate a loan from the Bank of
Finland, which the Building Board could pay back immediately upon receiving the state aid
613 The share of state aid was, in other words, estimated at FIM 15.5 million and that of the municipalities at FIM 5.5
million. Building Committee May 9, 1930, Section 2. PSA.
614 All the municipalities paid a yearly fee of FIM 5,000 per bed between 1929 and 1932, and a fee of FIM 2,500 in
1933. Kalkas 1933, p. 15.
616 The motion of the State Medical Board to the Ministry of Finance on July 16, 1930. Record No. 2856 6673 III. State
Medical Board 1930 Da: 9. NA.
617 See e.g. Building Board February 25, 1929, Section 4. PSA; and Building Board April 1, 1931, Section 3. PSA.
618 A letter from the Building Board for a loan application dated May 23, 1931. AAM.
619 See Building Board November 3, 1930, Section 2. PSA; Building Board November 3, 1930, Section 14. PSA; Build-
ing Board November 15, 1930, Section 15. PSA; and the application of the Building Board for a loan on May 23,
1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
168
for that year.620 The Building Board took out loans from both private lending institutions
and the state.621 The interest rate varied between 7.0 and 8.5 percent.
The project was scheduled for completion in 1932. The increasing costs and the diffi-
culty in raising the necessary funds were major factors delaying the project. The Building
Board attempted to find reasons for the increasing costs and delays in the building sched-
ule. In the view of the Building Board, the most cost-effective method was to carry out
the work as sub-contracts. In this way, the developer would benefit from the price decrease
in materials and labour during an economic decline.622 In May 1931, the Building Board
entertained the possibility of carrying out the building work so slowly that no loans would
be necessary. However, it decided against this strategy, as leaving a half-finished building to
the mercy of the changing elements of the seasons would make this approach uneconom-
ical, even if the loss of interest and the fact the sick were not receiving the treatment they
needed were left out of the equation. The Building Board wanted to bring the project to a
conclusion systematically and at a brisk pace.623 According to a report written by Aalto in
1931, the financial situation of the building project was in line with the plan.624 In October
1931, Aalto again reported on the progress of construction to the Building Board. Bank
Manager Paavo Saarinen expressed displeasure that the budget had been exceeded, as the
general price level had declined by approximately 20 percent since the project began. How-
ever, he conceded the fact that some of the increased expenses were due to exceeded quality
specifications. Farmer Juho Pilppula pointed out that the budget was likely to be exceeded
by another million marks because the waste water treatment plant would cost more than
had been planned. The Building Board discussed the budget and, ultimately, whether it
would have been less expensive to contract the project out as a whole. Aalto responded
that cost estimates could never be absolute, and that the figures were always approximate.
Furthermore, the State Medical Board had added to its requirements in the course of the
building projects. Medical advisor Markus Sukkinen noted that the cost estimate in the

621 Insurance Company Tarmo, Länsi-Suomen Osuuspankki (Southwestern Finland Cooperative Bank), Ministry of
Finance, the State Treasury, Bank of Finland, Central Bank of Savings Bank and the Suomen Raakasokeritehdas
sugar manufacturers granted loans for the project. Building Board minutes 1928–1933. PSA.
622 Application of the Building Board for a loan on May 23, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
623 Ibidem.
624 Excavation, drainage, foundations, the concrete frame, external masonry, heat insulation, floor insulation, major road
works, forest clearing and main waterline had been carried out on site at the sanatorium. Partially complete or in prog-
ress were internal walls, the waterproofing of the roof, other insulation work, water, sewage and heating pipes, iron and
wooden windows, concrete surface treatment, the machinery for the bakery, upper leaf sound insulation and iron struc-
tures on façades. The completed or confirmed orders, the delivery or installation of which was still pending, included
all electrical works, lifts, some of the machinery, awnings, sun screens, the telephone, paging and signalling equipment,
some of the stair coverings and floor covering in the sun balconies. Aalto also pointed out that external rendering was
in the early stages and that the internal walls and the sound insulation work was 50 percent complete. In terms of pip-
ing, the main pipes and some of the risers were installed. Of the residential and auxiliary buildings, the staff dwellings
progressed in parallel with the sanatorium while the power and heating plant were all but complete. The foundations for
physicians’ dwellings, the funeral chapel and car garage were being laid and the brickwork was scheduled to begin on
July 1. Aalto commented, with regard to the progress and costs on June 1, 1931, that the costs had at that point exceeded
the estimate by 1.2 percent. The project had experienced setbacks excavating foundations as the rock profile differed
to that indicated by the soil testing map. The construction of two kilometres of drainage running into a nearby river had
also proved more expensive than anticipated. On the other hand, many of the works had been completed under the
original budget. Aalto’s account of the construction work June 15, 1931. Record 1245. State Medical Board 1931 Ea:34. NA.
169
case of every single sanatorium had been exceeded by two to four million marks, including
those projects that had been contracted out. The Board was satisfied with the supervision
and management of the project. Aalto noted that the interior had been allocated more
funds than in other sanatoria so far.625
In August 1932, the Building Board again voiced its concern about the delayed sched-
ule and expanding costs. According to Pilppula, several changes had been made during
construction work without notifying the Building Committee. Pilppula felt that the
Building Committee should speed up the work. The matter was left on the table until
the next meeting, which would be attended by Aalto.626 The discussion continued at the
next meeting, which was held soon after. Aalto, Sukkinen and Kalkas were given the task
of drawing up a report on funds used so far and those yet to be required.627 The Building
Committee then discussed the new building cost estimate, according to which the budget
was to be exceeded by FIM 1.316 million.628 The new cost estimate by the Building Com-
mittee, dated January 1, 1933, put the total costs of the sanatorium at FIM 27 million.629
Aalto participated in the work of both the Building Board and Building Committee
and was responsible for preparing and following up on the cost estimates. This experience
made him particularly conscious of the importance of pricing in procurement.

626 Building Committee August 5, 1932, Section 3. PSA.
628 Costs incurred so far at the time of cost analysis totalled FIM 19.245 million and the anticipated further costs
were estimated at FIM 5.131 million, bringing the total cost to FIM 24.376 million. Extraordinary costs (waste water
treatment, interest, the sauna and greenhouse, kitchen acquisitions, cars and other unforeseeable costs) came to
FIM 1.06 million. Building Committee August 18, 1932, Section 1. PSA.
629 Building Committee January 1, 1933, Section 2. PSA.
170
SUMMARY OF BUDGET AND STATE AID
PAYMENTS FROM LOCAL AUTHORITIES

STATE’S EXPECTED SHARE, MAY 1930
STATE’S ACTUAL SHARE

BUDGET
MONTH
YEAR
[FIM]
[FIM]
[FIM]
1929 15,500,000 1,000,000 1,000,000
1930 May 22,000,000 3,000,000 2,000,000
1931 5,000,000 3,500,000
1932 August 24,376,000 6,375,000 3,000,000
1933 January 27,500,000 2,000,000
TOTAL [FIM] 15,375,000 11,500,000 5,700,000
Table 3.2.1a. The budget of the project increased by 42 percent when the City of Turku joined in
spring 1930. The state aid covered 74 percent of the original budget, which was scaled for a smaller
sanatorium. The Building Board funded the project with short-term loans. This information has been
compiled from minutes of the Building Board meetings. See also Kalkas 1933, p. 15.
171
SUMMARY OF BUILDINGS COSTS
Excavation, preliminary work 302,600
Foundations 554,545
Reinforced concrete frame 2,799,775
Bricklaying 2,393,836
Staircases 178,498
Roofing, insulation 372,800
Windows and doors 1,586,350
Piping work 4,008,700

ACTUAL BUILDING
WORK 630 Rendering 579,955

Construction drying 169,000
Floors 1,015,880
Painting 720,000
Façade work 522,815
Specialist interior work 88,430
Machine installation (kitchen, laundry, bakery, etc.), fireplaces 795,840
Management 1,765,000
TOTAL [FIM] 17,854,024
Installations (electricity, low-current, specialist heating 1,392,000

systems, wastewater treatment)
INSTALLATIONS, Interior work 863,950

OUTDOOR AREAS Materials 657,650
AND INTERIORS
Medical technology 587,500
Outdoor areas 231,500
TOTAL [FIM] 3,732,600
Construction work proper 17,854,024
TOTAL Installations, outdoor areas and interiors 3,732,600
Other 313,376
TOTAL [FIM] 21,900,000
Table 3.2.1b. Cost estimate 1929.
630 Cost estimate, December 1, 1929. (PSA).
172
3 . 2 . 2 T H E P I T O F D E P R E S S I O N WAS R E AC H E D
IN 1932 IN FINLAND
The magnitude of the Great Depression of the 1930s as well as its repercussions varied
greatly from one country to the next. In Finland, the depression lasted from autumn
1929 until spring 1934, and it was moderately severe in comparison with the rest of
Europe.631 Prior to the depression, Finland had witnessed an economic boom. The
Finnish currency, the mark (FIM) was pegged to the gold standard in 1926, which had
increased developers’ confidence in the banking system and improved the prospects for
profitable business. Besides the stabilisation of the currency exchange rate, several other
structural factors were boosting property speculation, including the lower Central Bank
interest rate, the establishment of the Housing Mortgage Bank of Finland to bring
added funding to the market, the foreign loans invested by the State in commercial
banks in 1928, the increase in the price of land in towns and the Limited Liability
Housing Companies Act enacted in 1926.632 Housing construction had increased 3.5-
fold in the six years between 1922 and 1928 and the gross value of Finnish industrial
output had doubled between 1920 and 1927 and reached its height in 1928.633
The year 1928 was a peak year in construction and the turning point for the Finn-
ish national economy in general. As imports grew and exports declined, the current
account posted a deficit and the foreign-exchange reserves were depleted. The Bank
of Finland was keen to curb the growth of the deficit. It raised its discount rate, which
created difficulties for construction in autumn 1928.634 The decisions were based on
the assumption that the construction industry was the culprit for the rise in imports.
While the volume of construction goods imported had increased in the latter half of
the 1920s, their share of total imports was modest – according to a 1930 report, only
six percent of imports in 1928 were construction goods. The imbalance in foreign
trade was mainly caused by factors other than excessive building activities.635 The
trend in the timber trade took a turn for the worse at the beginning of 1928, when
Russia increased its supply. The price level of exports that was crucial for the Finnish
economy sank and the Finnish timber industry faced difficulty.636 From August 1928
until the end of 1930, the price level of agricultural produce decreased by 36 percent
and that of forest-industry products saw an even steeper decline. 637
In 1930, the situation in Finland changed in many respects. Compared to previous
years, only a fraction of new building projects were initiated. The depression first hit
the countryside and factories adopted a shorter working week as domestic demand
631 Hannikainen 2004, p. 10.

632 Hannikainen 2004, pp. 26–30.
633 Kahra 1938, p. 5.
636 Kahra 1938, p. 6.
637 Kahra 1938, p. 7.
173
declined. The depression resulted in wide-spread unemployment and tensions in
the workplace grew. Right-wing radicalism reached its peak in 1930 and the Lapua
movement, a Finnish nationalist and anti-communist radical movement, grew in
popularity. It staged violent kidnappings of left-wing councillors and pressured them
to resign from the local councils in 70 municipalities, including the City Council of
Turku.638 In the late 1920s, the degree of organisation among construction workers
had been high. In the 1930s, trade union activists and active members of the Finnish
Communist Party, which operated underground, were under surveillance by employer
organisations, employers and the Finnish Secret Police. The Finnish Trade Union
Federation, which represented workers in the collective bargaining agreements for
the construction industry in the 1920s, was discontinued owing to the national-level
disputes between left-wing parties.639
Public emergency employment programmes became a central method of creating
jobs for the unemployed during the depression. Rising unemployment created a poverty
problem, which fell on the local authorities to resolve. The Poor Relief Act obliged local
authorities to ensure the livelihood of its residents. In cities, emergency employment
was indeed organised by the local authorities. Rural municipalities, however, did not
have the necessary resources to organise emergency employment, which subsequently
fell on the State to arrange.640 The pit of the depression was reached in 1932, when
the unemployment rate was at its highest.641 The Finnish State ordered contingency
work to be carried out in winter 1931–1932 to combat unemployment in state-run
hospitals and sanatoria run by municipal federations.642 The Paimio site employed no
contingency workers, and all employees were on a normal contract. However, the State
ordered emergency work on several hospital building sites. The Ministry of Transport
and Public Works had requested the State Medical Board to propose sites where con-
tingency work could be organised to alleviate unemployment. The State Medical Board
made a proposal in 1931 on a number of hospital building sites for contingency work643
638 Peltola 2008a, p. 121.

639 Peltola 2008a, p. 316.
641 Peltola 2008a, p. 317.
642 The Ministry of Transport and Public Works obliged the State Medical Board to organise contingency work for
the winter and autumn seasons 1931–1933. Record No. 1596 3462 III. State Medical Board 1931 Da:13. NA;
Record No. 201744 5411 III. State Medical Board 1932 Da:19. NA; Record No. 2793 7110 III. State Medical Board
1933 Da: 25. NA.
643 Sites included in the 1931 proposal by the State Medical Board were the excavation and foundation work for the
Gynaecological and Obstetrics Department for Helsinki General Hospital, Kajaani General Hospital and Sortavala
General Hospital. Record No. 1596 3462 III. State Medical Board 1931 Da:13. NA.
174
and as late as in 1933, it provided a list of hospitals undergoing refurbishment projects

that would suit this purpose.644
The general employment situation was reflected in the work of the Building Board
of Southwest Finland Sanatorium. The Building Board discussed in October 1931,
whether the wages on site should be lowered, as it transpired that they were slightly
higher than the average in Turku. Engineer Kilpi pointed out that if the aim was to
maintain the right spirit and good morale at the site, the wages should not be cut.
Moreover, piecework contracts had been applied as much as possible.645 Kilpi, the clerk
of works, also referred to reliable work teams, by which he meant teams that would not
be causing difficulties. During the depression and after it, building sites hired piecework
contract teams, one of whom was named as the leader.646
Economic growth following the depression was rapid in Finland. Finland aban-
doned the gold standard on October 12 in 1931, around the same time as the UK and
other Nordic countries did the same. The devalued currency gave a boost to exports and
improved the competitiveness of Finnish manufacturers in the domestic market. The
unemployment rate began to rise in 1929, with the trend continuing until 1932, when
the unemployment figures peaked. In 1933, the situation continued to be dire.647 The
entire sanatorium building project was executed in a period of time that was marked by
economic instability and political tensions.
644 The list itemises state and municipal federation institutions separately. Suitable sites among state-run institutions
were Pori General Hospital, the Nursing School and halls of residence adjacent to the Viipuri Regional Hospital,
Rovaniemi General Hospital extension, Oulu Regional Hospital, Häme Regional Hospital service building, Turku
Regional Hospital extension and Mustasaari Hospital extension. The suggested sites among municipal federation
hospitals were the new tuberculosis sanatorium sites of the Finnish-speaking municipalities of Uusimaa, munic-
ipalities of South Karelia, the Swedish-speaking municipalities of Central Ostrobothnia and the Finnish-speaking
municipalities of the same region as well as the extension of Oulu District Psychiatric Hospital. Record No. 2793
7110 III. State Medical Board 1933 Da: 25. NA.
645 Building Board October 17, 1931, Section 1. PSA; Törrönen 1984, p. 39.
646 This was a network, the membership of which depended on the approval of its other members. When the em-
ployer’s power increased during the depression, the degree of organisation amongst workers fell. In the 1930s,
finding work depended on being a member of such a work team. The team membership gave security on many
levels, including secure income when times were good and also added security during low seasons. If a builder
was accepted into a team, was skilled and the team leader competent, the member of a team could pay back
his “debt” by committing to the goals of the team. A team of good reputation could operate fairly freely and, for
example, join unions without having to fear major resistance. In this way, a high professional skills level also gave
workers a certain ideological freedom. Peltola 2008a, pp. 321–323.
647 In 1935, the unemployment rate normalised, showing typical seasonal fluctuations. Kahra 1938, pp. 8–9.
175
3.3 THE REINFORCED
C O N C R E T E F R A M E : A G R E AT
ARCHITECTURAL CHALLENGE
3 . 3 .1 A A LT O C O L L A B O R A T E D W I T H L O C A L
DESIGNERS AND BUILDERS
The concrete structures of Paimio Sanatorium were designed and dimensioned by Emil
Henriksson, a young engineer and master builder who played an active role in the busi-
ness life of Turku and held several positions of trust.648 He graduated as a reinforced
concrete engineer from the Technical School of Strelitz, Germany in 1924. After his
return to Finland, he ran his own private engineering firm specialising in reinforced
concrete structures in Turku from 1924 until 1932.649 Aalto and Henriksson had col-
laborated prior to the sanatorium project on the Southwest Finland Agricultural Coop-
erative Building, the Standard Apartment House650 and the Turun Sanomat Newspaper
Building. In these projects, modern reinforced concrete structures were employed, as
showcased by the roof truss structures of the theatre auditorium of the Agricultural
Cooperative Building.651 They also collaborated on the Turun Sanomat Newspaper
Building, which had a flat slab construction throughout the edifice. Its foundation was
a reinforced concrete slab poured on timber piles. The basement exhibited a mushroom
column arrangement and the asymmetrical columns of the printing hall were cast in
metal formwork. Emil Henriksson, who kept abreast of new developments, wrote
an article for Rakennustaito (The Finnish Construction Magazine) magazine about
reinforced mushroom slabs even before the Turun Sanomat project began, in 1927. The
mushroom columns, introduced in the article and used in the Turun Sanomat building,
represented a novel solution in Finland that was first used in industrial buildings.
648 Henriksson had been a member of the third bridge-building committee in Turku in the 1920s, as well as a member
of the board of Turku Industrial School since 1927 and a board member for numerous business enterprises. In
1932, he was made managing director in the construction firm Hakkala & Tuominen, in which he was partner. Hen-
riksson also wrote and lectured on concrete construction. Tolonen 1930, pp. 116–117; Jaakko Hartela’s interview,
June 6, 2001 by the author.
649 Emil Herman Henriksson, who, in 1930, changed his name to Hartela, was born in Värtsilä in North Karelia in
1894. He trained as a master builder on a three-year program at Kuopio Industrial School’s building construction
department. In summer 1914, he worked as a trainee at the construction site of Bühler steel factory in Düsseldorf’s
Buderich. After graduating, Henriksson worked for Turun Insinööritoimisto Oy engineering office in Turku and
Helsinki from 1915 to 1916. After this, he joined a Helsinki-based construction firm Tähtinen & K:nit, returning to
his native town of Värtsilä in 1917, where he served as a master builder for Ab Wärtsilä Oy until the beginning of
the Civil War, in which he fought on the side of the White army. Having worked as an independent draughtsman
and master builder between 1919 and 1922, Henriksson travelled to the Netherlands and from there to Germany,
where he continued his studies. In 1932, he was one of the founding partners of the construction firm Hakkala &
Tuominen and moved from being a designer to a builder. Henriksson died in 1970. Möttönen 2012.
650 Building permit granted July 30, 1928. Record No. VII-30-3. TKA.
651 Constructional drawings. Record No. VII-20-4. TKA.
176
Fig. 3.3.1a. The wall of the sundeck was cast against a layer of bricks placed in the
formwork. The wall was built using the slip forming technique. Photo PSA.
177
The series of structural drawings for the Southwest Finland Agricultural Coop-
erative Building, 104 drawings in total, was enclosed with the building permit mate-
rials.652 The number of drawings was considerable as in the 1920s the City of Turku
did not yet require structural drawings as part of building permit applications.653 For
example, no structural calculations have been preserved on the highly advanced and
modern reinforced concrete structures of the Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building,
which was granted a building permit a year and a half later than the Southwest Fin-
land Agricultural Cooperative Building.654
Emil Henriksson had also conducted concrete structural calculations for the res-
idential development Kellonsoittajankatu 8 (1925), designed jointly by architects Erik
Bryggman and Ilmari Ahonen655 and shortly after the sanatorium project for Bryggman’s
Sports Institute of Finland in Vierumäki, which was based on a competition win.656
Master builder Arvi Ahti also collaborated closely with a network of these Turku-based
builders.657 Ahti built the houses designed by Bryggman for the Suomen Sokeri (Finnish
Sugar Company) office and plant workers (1923–1924)658 and the apartment building
Atrium (1926–1927), and the aforementioned apartment building at Kellonsoittajankatu
8 and the Seurahuone Hotel, designed jointly by Bryggman and Ahonen (1926–1928).659
It is likely that it was Bryggman who introduced Ahti and Aalto to each other.
The reinforced concrete frame of Paimio Sanatorium was contracted to Arvi Ahti,
a notable and influential Turku-based contractor.660 He had served as the chair of the
Master Builders’ Union of Turku since 1923. Ahti and Henriksson were closely associ-
ated both personally and professionally. Ahti was Henriksson’s brother-in-law and his
business partner at Akso Oy company,661 which imported PH light fittings, designed
by Poul Henningsen, to Finland in 1929 for at least two sites designed by Aalto.662
It was likely lucrative to combine the roles of a contractor and master builder with a
652 The structural calculations for the Southwest Finland Agricultural Cooperative Building reinforced concrete struc-
tures were made between July and December 1927 and the project was granted a building permit on November
8, 1927. Record No. VII-20-4. TKA.
653 Constructional drawings have only been a requirement since 1956 when applying for a building permit in Turku.
Information received from Kirsi Helenius, information services secretary, January 18, 2013.
654 In the Turku City Archives, where the building permit documents are kept, there are no constructional drawings
concerning the Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building. The authority, responsible for granting permits at the time,
was the Provincial Archives of Turku. Similarly, in that archive there were no such documents concerning the
project either. No constructional drawings related to this project were found in the archives of TS either.
655 Database of architectural objects. MFA.
656 The seventh floor of the flat-roof building, the roof level, was recessed. There are three lower, flat-roofed wings
branching from the higher main mass. The construction of the main building began in 1933 and it was inaugurated
in 1937. For an image of the model see Bryggman 1937, pp. 81–87.
657 Arvi Verner Ahti was born in Turku in 1888 and graduated as master builder from Turku Industrial School building
construction department in 1911. He had made study trips to Sweden, Denmark, Germany, the Netherlands and
France in the 1920s. Having worked as a master builder, contractor and draughtsman until 1922, he continued as
a contractor. Tolonen 1930, pp. 16–17.
658 Soiri-Snellman 2010, p. 34 and p. 114.
659 Soiri-Snellman 2010, p. 61.
660 Veljekset Ahti Rakennusliike (Ahti Brothers Construction Firm) was one of the two major firms that dominated the
construction industry in Turku in the 1920s, carrying out 13 building projects in Turku between 1922 and 1926. The
firm employed ten master builders at its peak. Kankaanpää 1997, p. 78.
661 Jaakko Hartela’s interview on June 6, 2001 by the author.
662 The Defence Corps Building in Jyväskylä and Kemijärvi Church. Ollikainen 2010, p. 82.
178
partnership in a company supplying building materials.663 It appears that Aalto was

inspired in his own business operations by the entrepreneurial approach of these two
Turku businessmen.
Attaching a structural engineer to the sanatorium project was not a foregone con-
clusion. In May 1930, the Building Board of the sanatorium discussed the designs for
the reinforced concrete structures. Although some members felt that delivering the
structural calculations should have been assigned to the contractor, the Board decided
to employ an independent engineer for the project to carry out the calculations.664
The clerk of works, engineer Kilpi completed the structural calculations for the small
buildings and Aalto was allocated a budget of FIM 50,000 to carry out the calcu-
lations for the main building.665 After this decision was made, Aalto commissioned
Henriksson to carry out the task.
In May 1930, the Building Board published a call for tenders and received nine bids
in the first building phase, the construction of the reinforced concrete skeleton.666 The
Building Committee established that all the companies were financially sound, and
decided to base its decision on the most economical price. It started negotiations with
the three contractors who had submitted the least expensive bids. Ab Jernbeton Oy
(Reinforced Concrete Ltd), which shared third place in the price comparison, was left
out of the negotiations at this point. The most inexpensive bid was made by Oy Tektor
Ab.667 Aalto started the negotiations and soon informed the Building Board that the
manager of Tektor had said that the company had not taken into account the masonry
work of the chimney, and would for this reason need to raise the bid. The Building
Board decided to accept Tektor’s revised bid of FIM 3.94 million as the least expen-
sive.668 As a consequence, the building contractor and master builder Arvi Ahti, whose
bid had been placed fifth in the price comparison, informed the Committee that he had
made a mistake in his calculations by including the masonry work in his first bid, and
was therefore interested in lowering the price to FIM 4.075 million. The Committee
considered that Ahti’s announcement did not lead to the need for further measures to
be taken. It continued the negotiations with Tektor until it emerged that the concrete
work of the rear wall of the sun balcony was not included in their bid as it was only
presented in Aalto’s final drawings. The minutes do not reveal whether Aalto presented
new drawings or ideas during the negotiations. When no agreement was reached, the
663 Kankaanpää 1997, pp. 65–66.

666 Bids were placed by the following companies, listed from the lowest quote to the highest: Oy Tektor Ab (FIM 3.845
million); master builder A. Löfström and entrepreneur A. Lyly (FIM 3.994 million); master builder Lauri Mattila (FIM
4.4 million); Ab Jernbeton Oy (FIM 4.4 million); master builder Arvi Ahti (FIM 4.5 million); master builder Tähtinen &
Heikinen (FIM 4.56 million); master builders K. Artukka and E. Viljanen (FIM 4.713 million); Oy Construktor Ab (FIM
4.65 million); and Huhtala, Lahti & Viljanen (FIM 4.85 million). Building Committee June 4, 1930, Section 1. PSA.
667 Two of the companies who placed a bid, Oy Tektor Ab and Constructor Ab led by Manne Muoniovaara, were
among Finland’s most notable construction firms. Rantamo 2009, pp. 96–98.
668 Building Board June 10, 1930, Section 3. PSA.
179
negotiations were terminated. Simultaneously the Building Committee decided to ask
Ahti whether his new bid was still valid.669
The legal adviser of the Federation, Armas Kataja, participated in the next meeting
of the Building Committee a few days later. The Committee found that no agreement
had been reached with Tektor, the Committee members had continued negotiations
with Arvi Ahti, and the contractor had lowered his bid to FIM 3.995 million. The
Committee solicited the Board to sign the contract with Arvi Ahti.670 The Board
accepted the proposal “because it was feasible”. A recent closing of accounts of Ahti’s
company was presented at the meeting.671
With this procedure, the three companies who had submitted lower bids than
Arvi Ahti were also dismissed. The minutes do not reveal whether any negotiations
were arranged with them. The Helsinki-based Tektor, which operated all over Finland,
was a significant contractor with experience in different types of projects, ranging
from industrial buildings for notable companies and schools to multi-storey apart-
ment buildings.672 In several of these buildings, modern concrete techniques had
been applied and mushroom columns had been used, for example, in a warehouse in
Helsinki (1929) built for the OTK, a cooperative wholesale company.673
The construction of the reinforced concrete frame was to commence without delay
and the work was to be completed by the end of November. The frame construction
was based on architectural drawings, of which there were 12, as well as a work spec-
ification. In addition, the contractor had special and full-scale drawings, which were
based on the aforementioned documents and were made after the contract was signed.
The scope of the work was defined in the work specification. In the event that the
master drawings contained any discrepancies, the client was to decide which drawing
should be applied. The contractor was to check the material volumes from the structural
calculations. According to the work specification, the contractor was to adhere to the
construction methods as provided in the drawings, and was not allowed to alter their
structural nature. Supervisors appointed by the developer, Aalto and Henriksson, were
to be treated as fully authorised representatives of the client.
The contract agreement required that the contractor employed mainly work-
ers based in Southwest Finland. Local workforce was to be at least 90 percent of
the total workforce. The cement, bricks and other materials used in the reinforced
concrete frame construction were to be produced in Finland.674 Emil Henriksson’s
669 Building Committee June 12, 1930, Section 5. PSA.

671 Building Board August 21, 1930, Sections 12 and 14. PSA.
672 References to Tektor from the late 1920s were also listed in an advertisement published in Suomen arkkitehtiliiton
rakennusteknillinen käsikirja SARK (Construction Technical Handbook of the Finnish Association of Architects).
Harmia ed. 1937, p. 20.
673 The building is located in Katajanokka, Helsinki. Heikinheimo et al., Ark-byroo architects, 2012.
674 Contract between the Building Board and construction manager Arvi Ahti for the erection of the reinforced concrete
skeleton of the main building of the sanatorium June 17, 1930. Work and contractor contracts 1929–1951. PSA.
180
office drew up structural calculations in June–November 1930 simultaneously with

the moulding of the reinforced concrete frame.
The Building Committee discussed the cost estimate drawn up by Aalto prior to
the contractor selection process in May 1930.675 However, the accepted contract offer
was 42 percent higher than the cost estimate drawn up by Aalto one month earlier. The
Building Board did not, however, enter into discussion on the reasons for the substantial
increase in price. Nor was the solution for the reinforced concrete frame ever questioned,
despite this being a novel structure to be used in building construction.
The government had passed a decision on regulations governing concrete and rein-
forced concrete structures in 1929. The regulations were divided into sections on gen-
eral guidelines, static calculations, materials, execution and test cubes. The regulations
concerned all government institutions and all concrete and reinforced concrete struc-
tures built by local authorities or private builders in a municipality that had a building
inspection unit. As the Finnish State was one of the financiers of Paimio Sanatorium
and the City of Turku one of the partner municipalities, these regulations were to be
observed in the project. The section on static calculations covered load assumptions,
moments, determining normal and shear forces, tension calculations and structural
regulations. The section on the execution focused on the handling of reinforcements,
the quality of concrete and formworks.676 The norms in question were the first of their
kind in Finland. However, the City of Helsinki Building Inspection Office had issued
regulations in 1913 on work on reinforced and unreinforced concrete structures, which
were amended in 1926 and 1929.677 In the 1920s, the City of Turku had a building code
in place, which had been issued in 1883 and amended in 1907 and 1916.678 Accord-
ing to this code, fireproof material could be used for building multi-storey residential
buildings. The building code of Turku did not provide any guidelines for reinforced
concrete structures.679 Finnish builders and designers acquired theoretical and practical
knowledge about reinforced concrete structures through international literature, profes-
sional journals, studies and study trips as well as from experts who arrived in Finland
to work. Those training as master builders studied reinforced concrete structures from
Finnish textbooks from the early 1900s, which were modelled on German books.680
Established in 1921, the Association of Finnish Concrete Manufacturers had educated
concrete builders widely since 1923.681
675 The concrete frame construction had been allocated FIM 2.8 million. A cost calculation of the sanatorium. Building
Committee May 9, 1930, Section 2. PSA.
676 Valtioneuvoston päätös betoni- ja rautabetonirakenteita koskevista määräyksistä 182/1929 (The Decision of the
Council of State Concerning Instructions on Concrete and Steelconcrete Structures 182/1929).
677 Neuvonen et al. 2002, p. 147.
678 Kankaanpää 1997, p. 104.
679 Turun kaupungin rakennussääntö 1921 (The Building Regulation of the City of Turku 1921), pp. 19–20.
680 Gustav Edvard Asp, architect, teacher, Rector of Turku Industrial School, used German literature as his source for
chapter on reinforced concrete structures in his 1908 textbook Huonerakenteiden oppi (Textbook on Building
Structures). Neuvonen et al. 2002, p. 28.
681 Junttila 1946, pp. 17–23.
181
3 . 3 . 2 T H E C O O P E R AT I O N A N D C O N F L I C T S I N
DESIGNING REINFORCED CONCRETE FRAME
The main building of the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland was built on
a reinforced concrete frame in situ. The building report written by the architect, which
exhibited the input of the structural engineer, gave a thorough picture of the execution
of the concrete structures in the main building. Aalto considered the dimensioning of
the column system a demanding task.682
The entrance lobby columns were cast in three-millimetre iron plate formworks
so that the formwork stayed in place as the surface of the finished column. Aalto and
Henriksson had used similar formwork in the asymmetrical columns of Turun Sanomat
newspaper printing hall. The exposed surfaces of the columns on the external wall or
the internal columns flanking the patient rooms were insulated with expanded cork.
The cork was cast onto the column surface.683
All floors were made of reinforced concrete as well as the topmost beams support-
ing the roof. Apart from a few exceptions, such as the boiler room and workshops, all
roof structures had double-slabs with the topmost slab cast last. Tapered beams were
widely used in the building, with a thicker depth in the middle, where the compression
stress was at its highest.684 The intermediate floors were built in three stages: first the
lower slab and beams were cast, followed by the laying of heating, water and sewer
pipework and electrical wiring, and finally the upper leaf was cast on a bed of filling.
With the upper leaf not resting directly on the beams, step sound insulating structure
was achieved. The filling used in the intermediate floors was fine-grade coke cinder
and the structural height was 45 centimetres.685 The beam and slab floor system with a
floating upper leaf was a typical structural solution used in sanatoria in Finland in the
1930s. A similar structure was used in the City of Helsinki Tuberculosis Sanatorium
and Tarinaharju Sanatorium, both designed by Eino Forsman.686 The large and techno-
logically advanced City of Helsinki Tuberculosis Sanatorium was held as a forerunner
and model for other sanatoria built in the 1930s, including Paimio Sanatorium.687
Part of the beam system at Paimio Sanatorium served to carry air exhaust ducts,
and at these points the walls of the ducts were made of concrete slabs.688 The upper
slab of the service building and the radiology department in B wing were designed to
withstand the weight of machinery.689
682 Aalto [1930]a, p. 8.

683 Ibidem, p. 8.
684 Emil Henriksson’s structural drawings show that tapered beams were used in the wings. PSA; See also Neuvonen
et. al 2002, pp. 100–101.
685 Aalto [1930]a, p. 9.
686 Heikinheimo et al., Ark-byroo architects 2014, p. 48.
687 Laurila and Tandefeld 1968, pp. 607–662, particularly p. 660.
688 Aalto [1930]a, p. 9.
689 Ibidem, p. 9.
182
The open sundecks and balconies were constructed as single-leaf slabs. In this case
the load-bearing structure was a slab resting on a beam or a cantilevered slab. Console
structures were employed in the intermediate floors in C wing and in the corridors of
A wing. Here, the walls beneath and above the window were connected directly to the
floor slab as narrow concrete beams and the internal insulation material was cork.690 A
free-bearing wall allowed for the use of ribbon windows.
The structural solution of A wing differs from that of the patient rooms and sundecks.
In patient rooms, the building has two load-bearing rows of columns, one of which aligns
with the south-facing external wall and the other with the corridor wall. These columns
support the transverse primary beams, which in turn support the longitudinal secondary
beams. The load-bearing vertical structure in the sundeck wing is one row of columns
balanced with tensioned steel rods cast within the thin rear wall.691
The sundeck ceilings, parapet and other concrete surfaces were cast with clean joints.
The cast walls were smoothed and coated with thin-coat coloured render. According to
the work specification, similar treatment was applied to the concrete shell on the bottom
section of the chimney, water tank and all balconies and canopies.692 In these, the cast-
ing surface of the structural elements was left in view. The reinforced concrete structure
contained contraction joints. The architectural drawings showed a detail of the expansion
joint in the ceiling structure.693 The water tank was constructed around the chimney. It
was made of trowel-finished reinforced concrete and coated on the inside with a seal-
ant.694 According to the building specification, the air-entrained surface concrete in the
water tank was placed in the formwork before it was filled. The plan was to smooth the
external surface with concrete and cover with thin-coat coloured render. A photograph
taken during the construction reveals that the water tank surface was clad with vertical-
ly-laid roofing tiles, probably redbrick. The outer shell of the chimney, which supported
the water tank, was built from redbrick and left unrendered.695
The semi-open floor slab of the second floor in the dining hall in the B wing was
supported by a wire construction, suspended from the beams of the third floor. The
construction was enveloped in a cement-filled iron tube.696 The structural designer drew
a detail of the bottom section of the suspended structure. The architect had sketched
the idea of a semi-open intermediate floor in the competition phase, and it was one
of his most central spatial solutions. It emphasised the importance of the communal
space: the dining and banqueting hall. The medical experts had unanimously rejected
the idea as too expensive before the actual design commission commenced. They had
also recommended that windows be added to the northern wall, to facilitate airing.
690 Ibidem, p. 9.
691 Ibidem, pp. 8–9
692 Ibidem, p. 8.
693 The image shows the attachment of the roofing felt at an expansion joint. Drawing No. 50-382. AAM.
694 Sica was used as a sealant for concrete and render surfaces. Harmia 1937 ed., p. 116.
695 See e.g. photos ar 26-33, ar 26-34 and ar 26-42. AAM.
696 Aalto [1930]a, p. 8.
183
SUSPENDED INTERMEDIATE FLOOR
Fig. 3.3.2a. The solution of the suspended

intermediate floor in the dining hall was already
included in the design at the competition stage.
The top floor housed apartments and a terrace.
The wire was fixed to the beams of the floor
between the first and second floors. Medical
experts criticised the solution for its costs and
the difficult air flow. In the master drawing,
the wire is fixed to the third floor beam. Detail
of drawing No. 50-29. The drawing has been
edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.3.2b. This section and its variations helped the architect to defend the solution that had been
strongly criticised by medical experts. The image shows how Aalto’s intermediate floor solution allowed
daylight to flood deep into the building frame. He justified his choice by showing how this structural
solution would allow daylight to penetrate deeper into the building, and the section diagram of the dining
hall became an important tool of translation. Drawing No. 50-764. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
184
Fig. 3.3.2c. This perspective
drawing is probably from
spring 1930. The windows
on the north-facing wall of
the dining hall are extremely
large. Medical experts had
required the addition of
windows to the north-facing
wall to facilitate airing. These
windows were realised as
small ventilation windows.
Drawing No. 50-226. The
Fig. 3.3.2d. Dining hall. The top part of the back wall housed the film projector. A panel radiator was
mounted on the back wall and beneath the glass wall. The encased radiator heaters were mounted
on the suspended ceiling. Windows were added to the north-facing wall as demanded by the medical
experts. Photo No. 50-003-401. AAM.
185
Aalto added the north-facing windows, but did not change the design in which the
first-floor beams were suspended from the third-floor beam. He justified his choice
showing how this structural solution would allow daylight to penetrate deeper into
the building, and the section diagram of the dining hall became an important tool
of translation. The discussion on the dining hall intermediate floor structure has not
been entered into any records. It would appear, however, that the matter had been
discussed in December 1929, as the minutes state that the architect had for the main
part incorporated the requested changes into his designs.697 Aalto did not at any
stage suggest any alteration to the structural or spatial solution of the dining hall;
on the contrary, with the aid of his powerful drawings, he was able to translate other
actors’ interests to support his view. In other words, Aalto improved on the health-re-
lated aspects of his proposal on the request of the medical experts, but he did not
compromise on his own architectural vision. There are no records of the discussions.
All wings in the sanatorium had flat roofs. A similar structure was used for the
roofs as for the intermediate floors – a separate upper slab. If the beam came within
five centimetres or closer to the upper slab, a two-centimetre insulating panel was to
be used on the surface of the slab. The top slab was trowel-finished. Roofs that did
not serve as balconies or decks, were covered with two layers of bitumen felt, with
bitumen sealing. The sundeck floors were similarly covered with two layers of felt.
On top of them, concrete slabs were laid and attached, then sealed with red asphalt.
The bitumen felt was continued up the wall by 30 centimetres as a plinth. The felt
edge curved underneath the render or galvanised sheet. The water-proofing of the
ward-specific sundecks and balconies was executed using only one felt layer, accord-
ing to the work specification. The insulation of the roof structure with coke cinder was
included in the contract for the construction of the building frame.698
Roof drainage took place via drain pipes. The pipes running across ordinary roof
areas were made of galvanised plate and were joined under the roof edge to the asphalt
gutter with a double lead sleeve. One-metre long ground gutters grooved into granite
directed rainwater to the perimeter drain. Rainwater was drained from the sundecks
and the northern elevation of the patient wing through three-inch Mannesman pipes
running inside the building frame. The internal roof pipes were connected to the
sewer with an odourless system.699
Corridors and staircases had reinforced concrete walls. When casting the walls, roofing
tiles were placed on the outside of the formwork and the thermal insulation layer on the
inside. The insulation material used was expanded cork.700 Similar wall structures were
used in the kitchen building, the top section of the boiler room and some sections of the

698 Aalto [1930]a, p. 12.
699 Ibidem, p. 13
700 Expanded cork was made by heating cork to 150 degrees centigrade and by bonding it with odourless bitumen.
The use of the material for insulation became popular in the 1920s as concrete structures gained ground. It was
more expensive than peat board, which was also used for insulation. Kaila 1997, p. 523.
186
B wing. The walls of the safe and the radiology department, which required exceptionally
strong structures, were cast in conjunction with the frame construction.701
Sundeck parapets and the railing of certain staircases had been specified to be
made of rough-case concrete and were included in the frame construction. The stairs
were largely cast together with the rest of concrete construction, reinforced like slabs,
but some stairs were constructed as free-bearing structures, with steps made sepa-
rately. Staircases B (ward sister’s staircase) and C (ward staircase) in the patient wing
were cast in situ and covered with mosaic flooring plates.702 In other words, Aalto
used prefabricated parts in these stairs.
The use of a reinforced concrete frame led to the use of hybrid structures, with the
different material layers in the wall serving a certain function. The purpose of the rein-
forced concrete was to bear load. Questions of heat and sound insulation qualities in
different structures were raised for discussion in professional journals during the early
1930s. The building report for Paimio Sanatorium recommended the use of expanded
cork, insulite or Celotex board in places where the concrete structures of the interme-
diate floor creates a thermal bridge.703 On external walls, heat insulation was resolved
using redbrick and expanded cork, and with coke cinder in intermediate floor cavities.
The Paimio Sanatorium archives hold 28 structural drawings by Emil Henriks-
son and the set of drawings is incomplete. Emil Henriksson’s office archives were
destroyed in a fire that started by an incendiary bomb during World War II,704 and
the Alvar Aalto Museum Archive holds no copies of Henriksson’s structural drawings.
The structural drawings contained markings indicating the person who made the
strength calculation and drawings, but some pictures lacked these markings. In addi-
tion to Emil Henriksson, the structures were scaled and drawn by Runo Cairenius,705
Henriksson’s student friend from Germany and a person using the initials “H.L.”
Henriksson completed a major share of the work.
In the following section, the evolution of the tectonic solution for the sundeck wing
has been approached as a dialogue between the architect and the structural engineer by
organising their respective drawings in a chronological order. This solution, a structure
balanced on one column row, lent itself to further investigation as a result of being
exceptionally demanding to execute, large-scale and architecturally significant. Further-
more, drawings by both the architect and the structural engineer had been preserved,
allowing the sequence of developments to be followed.
701 Aalto [1930]a, p. 8.

702 Ibidem, p. 15.
703 Ibidem, p. 9.
704 Jaakko Hartela’s interview on June 6, 2001 by the author.
705 Runo Cairenius was born in Hanko in 1897 and graduated from the Turku Industrial School building construction
department in 1918 and from Technical School of Sterlitz reinforced concrete department in Germany in 1923.
Between 1923 and 1927, he worked as a master builder on various building sites, as the director of Richard
Helander’s coke cinder plant between 1925 and 1926, and as a constructor at engineer Henriksson’s office in
Turku from 1927 onwards. He invented an extrusion roller for the manufacturing of partition panels and man-made
stones and received Patent No. FI12424 in 1929 for his innovation. Tolonen 1930, pp. 51–52.
187
At the competition stage, the sundeck wing had four floors and no roof terrace. The
pictured cantilever tapered towards the outer edge. It was supported by gigantic consoles.
The cantilevered section was four to five metres long. The rear wall was load-bearing and
it was supported by buttresses. In the competition stage, all wings had a load-bearing
column row in the exterior wall. Only the sundeck wing had a cantilevered structure.706
Just before the structural engineer joined the project, the floor plan of the sundeck
wing showed the load-bearing column row inside the sundeck as square shaped and
paired with another column in the enclosed rear wall – the architect was developing a
ladder structure. The sundeck continued to be open and cantilevered.707 A section of the
sundeck wing drawn by Aalto is related to this stage of the design process. In the draw-
ing, the wing reached its final height, six storeys and a roof deck. The columns in the
middle of the deck are of even width while the columns at the rear wall taper upwards.
The beams of the sundeck are cantilever structures of mainly even width, although
slightly tapered towards the outer edge. The foundation method for the sundeck wing
has not been specified. It is inferred from this solution that the sketch was drawn by the
architect without the input of a structural engineer. The upward-tapering structure of
the rear wall resembled the structure of a traditional brick wall.708
The architect’s drawing from July 1930 shows a sundeck structure that is com-
prised of sophisticated cantilevered slabs tapering in two directions towards the outer
edges. Created by the person behind the initials “H.H.”, the drawing also clearly
showed how the load-bearing row of columns tapered upwards. At this stage, the
structure had also been designed on the basis of calculations, the structural engineer
having been engaged on the project in May 1930. This drawing created by the archi-
tect’s office showed that the designer had a good insight into the material and was
familiar with its behaviour. The functionality of the structure had been addressed and,
for example, the role of the rear wall as a counterbalance to the cantilever was optimal.
The solution was also aesthetically accomplished.709 It would appear that the design
evolved considerably once the structural designer had joined the team.
Emil Henriksson’s calculations and structural drawings of the ground floor and first
floor ceiling of the sundeck wing were dated August 1930. They showed a floor plan
with a load-bearing row of five columns with a rectangular section, and a closed rear
wall with no windows. The concrete layer in the rear wall was enveloped by a protective
structure. The structural drawings also included a section and reinforcement drawings for
the slab of the two floors. The double-beam connecting the columns was resolved as a
box beam construction allowing for a lighter structure. The columns tapered between the
ground floor and first floor by 20 centimetres. They narrowed down further on the five
lower storeys to continue in even width on storeys six and seven.710 The cantilevered part
706 Drawings Nos. 50-29 and 50-25. AAM.

710 Drawings Nos. 22 and 23 by Emil Henriksson. PSA.
188
of the slab did not have secondary beams as in the A wing, except for in the outer edge.
The structural engineer used the architect’s design as a starting point but added value to
it by optimising the use of material. This cantilevered slab exhibited Emil Henriksson’s
experience in beamless reinforced roofs, which was the type of solution he had used in
the paper warehouse of the Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building and on which he wrote
an article for Rakennustaito (The Finnish Construction Magazine) magazine.711
The architect continued with drafting the sundeck wing once this building ele-
ment had been resolved. These schematic and simplified drawings were made for the
presentations. The vertical section of the sundeck wing was sketched by the architect
probably at the end of 1930. It illustrates the principle of the reinforcements.712 In the
second drawing of the section, the sundeck slab illustrates the reinforcements in the
slab and shows the box construction.713 Aalto understood the novelty and media value
of the structure they had developed as a team with the structural engineer.
The enclosed rear wall of the sundeck wing was in the drafting stage in the spring of
1930, marked as a reinforced concrete structure without insulating layers.714 However, at
the construction stage, the structure was cast against a protective layer of bricks. The pho-
tographs of the Paimio Sanatorium Archive showed the bottom storeys having already
been cast and the formworks erected for the top part. The wall was constructed using the
slip forming technique, a method employed in industrial construction, particularly in the
construction of silos, which were admired by European modernist architects.
The image inked-in for publication shows a simplified version of the seven-storey
structure supported on one column row. The columns tapered upwards. The rear wall
was non-load-bearing and contained the tensile reinforcement. The rear wall was
protected on the outside with brick in conjunction with the casting. The rear wall did
not appear to have a foundation.715
The tectonic solution of the sundeck wing acquired its final form as a joint effort
between the architect and the engineer. The drawings showed that the structural
engineer did not join the design team until May 1930. He gave added value to the
architect’s draft. The architect’s draft from July 1930 shows how the functionality and
form of the structure had eventually been resolved. The drawing created by “H.H” was
crucial to the final outcome.
The two lowest storeys of the sundeck wing were dated August 1930. The structural
engineer created drawings in the order of construction, but naturally the sundeck wing
structure had to be conceived as a complete entity. It is therefore likely that the struc-
tural drawings of the sundeck wing, which have not been preserved, were also created
in August 1930. The construction of the sundeck wing progressed in parallel with the
rest of A wing, one storey at a time.
711 Henriksson 1927.

189
OPEN WARDS
Fig. 3.3.2e. The sun patios planned at the competition stage to be situated in front of the
sundeck. Drawing No. 50-25, detail. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.3.2f. At the competition stage, the sundeck wing had four floors and no roof terrace. The cantilever,
pictured, tapered towards the outer edge. The rear wall was load-bearing and it was supported with
buttresses. At the competition stage, all wings had a load-bearing column row in the exterior wall. Only
the sundeck wing had a cantilevered structure. Pictured also, the terrace garden in front of the sundecks,
designed by Alvar Aalto. Drawing No. 50-29, detail. The drawing has been edited AAM.
190
Fig. 3.3.2g. The floor
plan of the sundeck wing
from 1930 before the
finalisation of the design.
The load-bearing column
row inside the sundeck was
square shaped, and paired
with another column in
the closed rear wall – the
architect was apparently
developing a ladder
structure balanced between
two lines. Drawing No.
50-661. The drawing has
been edited AAM.
Fig. 3.3.2h. The section of the sundeck wing is at its

final height, so the sketch is from around February
1930, before the structural designer had joined the
project team. The columns in the middle of the deck
were of even width, while the columns in the rear wall
tapered upward. The sundecks were cantilevered, but
fairly thick structures. The foundation method for the
sundeck wing had not been specified. This sketch was
probably drawn by the architect without the input of a
structural designer. Drawing No. 50-708. The drawing
has been edited AAM.
191
OPEN WARDS
Fig. 3.3.2i. This drawing by “H.H.” from July 1930 shows a sundeck with a sophisticated structure
tapering in two directions towards the outer edges. The solution was developed in collaboration
with the structural designer. Drawing No. 50-296. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
192
Fig. 3.3.2j. Emil Henriksson’s structural drawing of the ground floor
ceiling in the sundeck wing was dated August 1930. It showed a
load-bearing column row, five columns with a rectangular section,
and a closed rear wall with no windows, so that the concrete layer is
enveloped by a protective envelope. The double-beam connecting
the columns was resolved as a box beam construction. The drawing
was from a later date than the corresponding architectural drawing,
Fig. 3.3.2i. Emil Henriksson’s drawing No. 22. PSA.
Fig. 3.3.2k. The vertical section of the sundeck wing was sketched
by the architect probably at the end of 1930. It illustrated the
principle of the concrete reinforcements and the foundation.
Drawing No. 50-155. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.3.2l. The section of the sundeck slab shows a schematic drawing of the reinforcements. The image
was made afterwards for presentation purposes. Drawing No. 50-409. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
193
A WING
Fig. 3.3.2m. Emil Henriksson’s structural drawing showed the primary and
secondary beam systems in A wing. At least on the ground floor, the beams
are different at the eastern end of the long patient wing. Dated July 1930.
Emil Henriksson’s drawing No. 5. The drawing has been edited. PSA.
194
3.3.3 THE CONSTRUCTION PROCESS
The structural drawings served as work specifications for casting the concrete. Since
the structural design was being carried out simultaneously with the construction work,
the progress of the work could be inferred from the dates of the structural drawings.716
The drawings were made between June and November 1930, when the concrete frame
construction also took place.717 The drawings dated June refer to the beams in the
boiler room (D wing). The drawings dated July refer to the A wing foundations and the
ground floor slab and beams; the B wing foundations, basement ceiling and the ground
floor columns; and the C wing basement ceiling and walls. The drawings contained
markings on the work methods on site and completion dates for interim goals. The
work progressed at a rapid pace.718 In August, designs were completed for the ground
and first floor ceilings of the sundeck and the ground-floor ceiling of B wing, the special
drawings for the suspension rods and three staircase drawings: the staircase spiralling
around a chimney in C wing, a straight staircase for C wing, and staircase C in A wing.
The structural drawing for the bridge connecting B and C wings as well as the lobby
ceiling and main entrance canopy pillars were dated September. Drawings for the water
tank, certain beams in the boiler room and B building as well as the ground floor ceiling
in B building were dated October. The cantilevered beam tapering towards the outer
edge for A wing was dated November 1930.719
The final inspection of the frame construction was conducted by the architect
Alvar Aalto, clerk of works Kaarlo Kilpi, contractor Arvi Ahti, site foreman Yrjö
Oskari Vuokko and architect Ilmari Ahonen, who was secretary to the inspection
panel. The engineer who conducted the structural calculations, chief supervisor Emil
Henriksson did not attend the final inspection.720 The final inspection was conducted
in harmonious spirit. The panel stated that the work had been carried out with com-
mendable diligence, both in terms of progress and quality. It was recorded in the
minutes that the execution deviated somewhat from the original designs. Work that
had been omitted included the roof-top machine rooms of the two smaller lifts, four
staircase steps, the masonry work between the chimney and boiler room and the slab
between beams in the boiler room ceiling. The volume of the kitchen staircase had
also been reduced. Extra work included the enlargement of the large lift machine
room in the main staircase, the expansion of the channel between the boiler room
and the main building and masonry work on the boiler room walls. The boiler room
716 Structural calculations were completed in a similar manner, concurrently with the construction, in the Southwest
Finland Agricultural Cooperative Building. TKA.
717 The contract for erecting the steel concrete skeleton was concluded June 17, 1930. It came into effect immediately
after the contractor had set a guarantee. Contract between the Building Board and contractor Arvi Ahti, June 17,
1930. Work and contractor contracts 1929–1951. PSA.
718 For example, the beams based on the designs for the lower slab beams dated in July were cast almost immedi-
ately, on August 2. Emil Hendriksson’s constructional drawing No. 3, July 1930. PSA.
719 Emil Henriksson’s constructional drawing No. 7, November 1930. PSA.
720 Minutes of the final inspection, December 5, 1930. PSA.
195
Fig. 3.3.3a. The image shows the floor curving up towards the window in the patients’ rooms under
construction. The load-bearing pillars in the corridor wall. Photo PSA.
Fig. 3.3.3b. The skeleton of the building was Fig. 3.3.3c. The water storage tank cast from
cast in situ floor by floor. Photo PSA. reinforced concrete around the pipe, a delicate
work, was constructed only in 1931. Photo PSA.
196
ceiling and the top part of the kitchen staircase had proved more complicated to
execute than anticipated. Casting the roof had been omitted following the instruction
of the supervisors and the water storage tank had not been built owing to its sensitive
nature. Furthermore, the developer had delivered to the site on behalf of the contrac-
tor the special bricks for the horizontal section of the central heating piping. It was
estimated that the cost savings made by omitting certain work and the costs incurred
by additional work could be offset against each other.
The foundation work carried out by the developer had revealed that the bedrock
on the site required drilling which had delayed the beginning of the framework.
Although the completion of the building frame work was postponed for the above
reason until a less opportune season, the contract was completed within the set time.
The contractor emphasised the fact that receiving working drawings and structural
calculations on time had sped up the work. According to the contractor, the super-
visors had also agreed on all actions in a timely manner. The developer signed off the
work, the casting of the roof slab and the water storage tank supported by the central
heating chimney excepted.721 Ahti built the water storage tank, which was part of
the building frame contract, in summer 1931.722 The final inspection report does not
mention any test loads as stipulated in the new concrete building standards or that
any test cubes of the reinforced concrete structure were sent for examination at the
material testing laboratory.723
The contract also included the purchasing of all building materials and tools and
equipment. The structures were cast in situ in timber formworks, except for the col-
umns in the lobby, which were cast in three-millimeter sheet metal formworks.724 The
contractor purchased timber from the Building Board to build the formworks725 and
had access to sand and water on the sanatorium plot without charge. The aggregate
for the reinforced concrete was pit-run gravel from the near vicinity of the sanato-
rium. The developer was, however, responsible for purchasing coke cinder and any
other fillers. The lift towers built by the contractor remained in the possession of the
developer after project completion. The Building Board purchased timber form Con-
tractor Arvi Ahti as well as two motors, a hoist and other machinery. He also rented
two stone mills, two hoists, a pump and a steam generator, among other things.726
At a minimum, the following machinery was in use at the building site: a motorised
concrete mixer; one new and one old electric motor; circular rip saw and its motor;
annular water pump; weighing machine; pushcarts; hand pump, kitchen cooker; two
telephones and various mechanical devices such as iron pushcarts which were used

722 Building Committee July 4, 1931, Section 1. PSA.
724 Aalto [1930]a, p. 8. AAM.
725 On commencing the frame construction, the Building Committee sold Arvi Ahti timber from forest clearance as con-
crete structure props at a minimum price of FIM 2.75 a piece. Building Committee June 27, 1930, Section 2. PSA.
726 Building Board December 15, 1930, Section 3. PSA; Building Committee August 21, 1931, Section 3. PSA.
197
Fig. 3.3.3d. The patient wing building site in autumn 1930. The A wing pillars on the external wall line
were cast in situ and protected by a brick layer. Photographer Alvar Aalto or Aino Marsio-Aalto. Photo
No. 50-003-079. AAM.
198
for transporting concrete mass horizontally on upper floors.727 However, the building
of Paimio Sanatorium took place largely using manpower without machinery. The
foundations were excavated manually with shovels, bricks were carried along a gang-
way into the building and mortar was pulled up in 20–30 litre buckets using a manual
hoist. The small farmers in the area drove sand to the site with horses, forming a chain.
The bricks were driven from Paimio train station to the site on a small truck.728 Bricks
and insulating firebricks were purchased from Suomen saviteollisuus Oy in Paimio.
3 . 3 . 4 I N S I G H T, K N O W L E D G E , S K I L L S
A N D M AT E R I A L C A M E T O G E T H E R I N T H E
REINFORCED CONCRETE FRAME
The Paimio Sanatorium project involved three master builders who had trained as con-
crete engineers in Germany. The structural engineers Henriksson and Cairenius as well
as the clerk of works Kilpi had studied in the same Technical School of Sterlitz. Kilpi
designed the concrete and other structures for the smaller buildings in the sanatorium
compound.729 These master builders and engineers had made study trips to many Euro-
pean countries and were well informed about the latest international developments
in their field. Therefore, the design and execution of the modern concrete structure
of Paimio Sanatorium did not depend on the knowledge of one or two individuals.
According to Aalto, the building management in the Sanatorium project had aimed to
keep the design and execution of each specialist structure separate and that the design
and building supervision were left in the hands of a senior professional advisor. When
the building was complete, Aalto recounted that the structural calculations had been
conducted in close collaboration with Emil Henriksson, from the very early stages
of the drawing process, and that, of all the specialists, his contribution was the most
notable. 730 Aalto did not, however, specify when exactly the collaboration had started.
Henriksson had probably served as an advisor in the competition stage in developing
the overall solution for the building. One should bear in mind that during the Paimio
Sanatorium competition stage, Aalto was collaborating with Emil Henriksson on the
Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building. However, it is equally possible that Henriksson
assisted Erik Bryggman, who also participated in the competition.
Aalto set store by expertise, on the one hand, and the separation of design and
execution, on the other. The structural engineer and the concrete frame contractor were
connected with each other on many levels, both professionally and personally. Aalto
himself had also built a relationship with Emil Henriksson during his earlier projects.
727 Tools and machinery. Summary of the building costs. I. Gm 1:1. PSA.
728 Törrönen 1984, p. 37.
730 Aalto 1933b, p. 86.
199
He was also aware of connections between Henriksson and Ahti. Owing to the eco-
nomic depression, the contracts were hotly competed, as evident in the case of the
concrete frame contract for Paimio Sanatorium.
The frame solution for A and C wings altered between the competition stage, January
1929, and the master drawing stage, April 1930, to a significant degree, while B wing
changed only in its roof terrace. In January 1929, A wing had two load-bearing external
wall alignments and one row of columns within the frame. In April 1930, only one of
the external walls was load-bearing. In January 1929, C wing similarly had load-bearing
external walls and a load-bearing row of columns inside. By Christmas 1929, it had
acquired two load-bearing rows of columns within the frame and non-load-bearing
external walls. B wing in turn kept its load-bearing external wall alignments throughout
its development. As a result, each of the three main wings had a different frame solution.
In April 1930, when the principles for the load-bearing structures had been resolved,
the design was submitted to the State Medical Board for approval. The work specifica-
tion at this stage included such detailed instructions on the execution of the concrete
construction that the author of these specifications must have had both theoretical and
practical competence on the subject. The architectural drawings and building specifica-
tion of this specific stage were given priority in the concrete frame contracting process.
It would appear that Aalto had invited Henriksson to join his team before the design
collaboration formally began in May 1930. From the perspective of power relations, it
is interesting to note that the strength calculation engineer signed the contract specifi-
cally with Aalto, not the Building Board of the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest
Finland. The Building Board did not want the contractor to conduct the structural
calculations although this was common practice at that time. If the contractor had been
allowed to use their own strength calculation engineer, the collaboration between Aalto
and Henriksson, which had lasted several projects, would have probably ended and
perhaps a similar fruitful relationship would not have formed with any other engineer.
The column, beam and slab frame in Paimio Sanatorium was innovative considering
the type of building it was applied to and the period. Some of the structures were more
conventional, such as the intermediate floors supported on external walls731 while others
were more ground-breaking, such as the cantilevered interim floors of the sundeck wing
and the large freeform entrance canopy, which acquired its final shape between July and
August 1930 as a collaboration between the architect and the structural engineer.732
Aalto also managed to salvage the suspended interim floor slab in the B wing dining
hall, regardless of the medical experts having unanimously rejected the structure in their
statements on the competition entries. Aalto drew diagrams to translate the doctors’
interests, illustrating how the structure would allow sunlight penetrate to the furthest
731 In the interwar period, interim floor slabs were almost without exception built from reinforced concrete. The most
typical structure was the slab-and-beam construction, on top of which rested a separate floor structure. The
structural thickness was typically 40–45 centimetres. Neuvonen et al. 2002, pp. 100–101.
732 See drawings Emil Henriksson No. 5. PSA dated July 1930; and drawings Nos. 50-306 and 50-307, dated August
25, 1930, and signed by “H.H.”
200
corner of the building wing. In A wing, the primary beams transversed the wing while
the secondary beams were longitudinal.733
Reinforced concrete has good load-bearing but poor heat insulation qualities. The
use of concrete as the load-bearing structure in Paimio Sanatorium required the use
of composite structures on the building envelope. In composite structures, each layer
has a different function; brick was used in the external walls of Paimio Sanatorium not
as a load-bearing structure but as heat insulation. As a load-bearing material, brick
was used only in isolated structures, such as the chimney, which supported the water
storage tank. Also, the columns of the outer wall in A wing were thermally isolated with
bricks.734 Aalto’s building report and, for example, plumbing specifications revealed
that he approached sound and heat insulation as an entire system.
The D series drawings by the architectural office are working drawings of various
building elements. The input of “H.H.” was significant, and he created some 20 drawings
in the period between 1930 and 1931. In 1930, “H.H.” created drawings particularly
for building parts relating to reinforced concrete structures, such as balconies, ramps,
sundeck sections and the canopy of the main entrance. They were drawn with great
consideration and their creator has clearly understood the qualities of reinforced con-
crete structures, perhaps to the extent of being able to design them. The person using
the initials “H.H.” may have been Hugo Harmia (1907–1952)735, who at this time
was still a student. Harmia, born Hackstedt, was Alvar Aalto’s maternal first cousin.736
Harald Wildhagen, for whom this role would fit perfectly, only used the initial “W”
or no initials in his drawings. Schildt has referred to the collaboration between Aalto,
Henriksson and Wildhagen. The Norwegian was professionally more experienced than
Aalto, in conjunction with the concrete columns for the Turun Sanomat Newspaper
Building; it would be plausible to assume that the collaboration continued with Paimio
Sanatorium. Or perhaps “H.H.” was Emil Herman Henriksson, using the initial of
his middle name rather than the first? This is an unlikely explanation, as Henriksson
is known to have marked his structural drawings with “E.H.” in his recognisable and
completely different, round handwriting.
The Turku-based businessman Juho Tapani did not place an offer for a contract
on the Paimio Sanatorium concrete frame. Tapani and Aalto had had disagree-
ments during the execution stage of the Southwest Finland Agricultural Cooper-
ative Building, as witnessed by meeting minutes in which mutual accusations for
delays in the delivery of designs and the construction work were recorded.737 Juho
733 The beam system was different at the eastern end of the A wing, at least on the ground floor. Emil Henriksson’s
drawing No. 5. PSA.
734 Photograph No. 50-003-079. AAM.
735 Hugo Edward Harmia (Hackstedt) was born in 1907 and finished his studies of architecture in 1933. He made study
trips to Sweden, Germany, France and Italy. Between 1933 and 1934 he worked as assistant at the architectural
practices of P. E. Blomstedt and of K. Borg. He started working for the Public Worls Department of the City of
Helsinki in 1934. Anon 1948, pp. 121–122.
736 Emails from curator Arne Hästesko on January 14 and 31, 2013, from chief curator Katariina Pakoma on January
22, 2013 and two emails from archivist Marja-Liisa Hänninen on January 28, 2013 to author.
737 Pakoma 2003, p. 24.
201
Tapani was bound to be dissatisfied with the Standard Apartment House in that
the structural solution created by Aalto and Henriksson was not based on utilising
the qualities of the concrete bricks that Juho Tapani had developed and marketed.
The selection process of the concrete frame contractors in Paimio is a testimony to
Aalto’s skills, ability and willingness to manoeuvre things to his benefit. Individuals
who were interconnected in many ways promoted each other and thereby their
own goals. Selecting Arvi Ahti as the contractor was in Aalto and Henriksson’s
own interest. In the Building Board’s view, Ahti as a Turku-based builder was a
preferable choice for the Building Board rather than the Helsinki-based Tektor,
who was the initial contractor poised to win the contract. The innovativeness of the
concrete structure also had a bearing when selecting the contractor in another way:
the Building Board did not hold official discussions on the discrepancy between
the cost estimate made by Aalto in 1930 and the final costs. Owing to provincial
protectionism in a time of recession, local labour and construction materials were
to be preferred at the construction site.738
Comparison between Aalto’s competition-stage design and the final building
shows that the most significant change is in the increased scale of the patient wing.
The structural solution of the imposing sundeck wing underwent three development
stages until it acquired its final shape in an apparently close collaboration between the
architect and the structural engineer. A number of details, such as the canopy above the
main entrance, the cantilevered balconies of the sundeck wing and the highlighting of
certain concrete structures, were finalised during the summer and autumn of 1930 as
construction work progressed. Aalto was able to keep the suspended interim floor in
the dining hall, which had been unanimously criticised by the medical experts before
the actual design process began. Once execution was underway, the issue was no longer
raised for discussion.
How useful were Latour’s concepts of actor-network theory when studying the real-
isation of the Paimio Sanatorium reinforced concrete frame? There were a large number
of documents covering this central building system, variable in quality, which made it
easier to understand the different dynamics of relationships affecting the work. Arti-
cles written by Aalto, which were discussed in Chapter 2, revealed the architect’s deep
engagement in creating the concrete structure, a challenge he found inspiring. Firstly,
he translated the interests of the Building Board so that it would favour a structural
designer, with whom he was close, by pleading the merits of using the designer’s inde-
pendence and expertise instead of allowing the contractor to make the structural calcu-
lations, which was a more commonplace practice at that time. As an innovator, he took
an active role in the contracting negotiations with the reinforced concrete contractor,
even if this tested the boundaries of his own integrity. The conract negotions were simply
738 Contract on constructing the reinforced concrete frame for the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland
signed by the Building Board and Building Supervisor Arvi Ahti, June 17, 1930. Work and contractor contracts
1929–1951. PSA.
202
Latourian trials he had to win. Aalto and Henriksson’s previous joint projects had been
successful and Aalto had come to rely on his expertise, knowledge and competence as a
designer. The professional respect must have been mutual. Henriksson, in turn, was Arvi
Ahti’s business partner and they had worked together on many developments in Turku.
The fact that he was from Turku motivated the Building Board to select Ahti as the
contractor instead of the Helsinki-based Tektor. Henriksson trusted Ahti’s knowledge
of concrete structures and the latter performed to expectation. Moreover, the men were
related, which may have been an added motivation to support each other’s businesses
during the economic recession. To mobilise Latour’s set of concepts, Aalto acted as the
innovator, the initiating force, who steered the project in the direction he wished and
who was ready to encounter various trials in order to achieve his personal goals. Aalto,
with his architectural vision, Henriksson, with his understanding of reinforced concrete
structures, and Ahti, with his track record as a builder of concrete structures, together
with reinforced concrete as the material, formed a strong hybrid that was capable of
action. The process was carried out as a joint undertaking by these builders, in good
spirit and according to schedule, producing an impressive tectonic outcome for the
concrete frame. The Building Board did not debate over the fact that the reinforced
concrete frame exceeded its budget quite substantially. Aalto’s solution, which allowed
sunlight to flood deep into the building frame, appealed to the medical experts after
all. He used section drawings as his tool of translation of their interests, showing the
medical experts how rays of sun reached the farthest corner within the structure. As
Aalto had succeeded in first persuading the medical specialist of the superiority of his
concrete frame design, the lay members of the Building Board voiced no doubts on this
issue. Even the final cost, which exceeded the budget by more than 40 percent, was not
questioned. The process was, in terms of actor-network theory, a successful translation.
203
3.4 THE HYBRID WINDOWS
P
lenty of sunlight and good ventilation were key principles alongside rest and diet
in the treatment of tuberculosis patients. The decree governing the state aid for
sanatoria prescribed that the State Medical Board be presented the structural
specifications of the sanatorium’s windows.739 During the competition stage, Aalto had
wanted to ascertain the views of the State Medical Board experts on the architectural
solutions in his proposed design and asked for their opinion. Edward Horelli, Senior
Medical Officer of the State Medical Board, agreed to comment on Aalto’s proposal
while the competition was still ongoing, suggesting that the 8.4 square-metre windows
in the patient rooms were too large, given some patients could not tolerate sunlight.
From the medical perspective, Horelli saw that the patients should have the option of
avoiding sunlight in their rooms, so half the proposed window size would suffice.740
3 . 4 .1 A R C H I T E C T U R A L D R A W I N G S
The window programme for Paimio Sanatorium included wood and steel windows,
their combinations and special windows, such as skylights. The archives of the Aalto
Museum hold some 50 drawings that have been categorised as window drawings
associated with the Paimio Sanatorium project. These drawings include 13 standard
window drawings, only three of which are for the Paimio Sanatorium building.
The rest of the standard window drawings illustrate the architect’s aim to develop
universal window standards.741
Aalto used the patient room window as a vignette in the competition sheets.
It was an asymmetrical, vertically divided three-part steel window with only the
left-hand section reaching to the floor. Each vertical section was equal in width:
some 70 centimetres wide. The bottom edge of the two sections on the right was
approximately 90 centimetres from the floor, and beneath them stood a floor-stand-
ing column radiator. The window area specified in the drawing was approximately
four square metres. The floor and the window wall were joined at right angles. The
window was a double-sash window with an air pocket in between. The top part of
the window was a window type known as the “health window”. This window type
had grown popular in public buildings in Finland at the end of the 19th century.
The inner window was bottom hung and the outer one top hung. The ventilation
739 Asetus valtionavusta 270/1929, pykälä 6. (Decree on State Aid 270/1929, Section 6).
740 E.J. Horelli’s letter to Alvar Aalto, January 2, 1929. AAM.
741 Elina Standertskjöld has discussed Aalto’s standardisation objectives in her articles “Alvar Aalto and Standardisa-
tion” and “Alvar Aalto’s standard drawings 1929–1932”. Standertskjöld, 1992a, pp. 74–88; Standertskjöld, 1992b,
pp. 89–111; for further discussion on Aalto’s standard window drawings, see Section 2.6.
204
Fig. 3.4.1a. Standard No. 6. The window system in the patient room. Visually, it seemed as if the window
reached all the way down to the floor level, although the actual floor level was 30 centimetres lower
than the bottom edge of the window. Drawing No. 50-395. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
205
window had special hinges connecting the interior and exterior sash together. The
ventilation window was opened and closed with a simple mechanism.742
The doctors had considered Aalto’s window design that reached all the way down
to the floor too difficult to clean and had recommended a higher window to secure
sufficient daylight.743 Standard No. 6, which showed the patient room window744, was
part of a series of drawings approved by the State Medical Board.745 The delicately
structured window now had sections of uniform height. Its area had grown to approx-
imately 6.5 square metres and it was a double-glazed steel window divided into three
vertical sections and equipped with a ventilation window. A fixed desk was fitted in
front of the bottom panes, underneath which the floor rose towards the outer wall in
an S-shaped profile. Visually, it seemed as if the window reached all the way down
to the floor level, although the actual floor level was 30 centimetres lower than the
bottom edge of the window. The standard drawing showed radiator pipes under the
desk and a chair with tubular steel legs and bent plywood seat. Aalto presented venti-
lation, heating and fixed furniture as an interlinked system together with the window.
The drawing showed that Aalto treated the patient room window as an overarching
solution rather than a separate element.
Aalto designed a wooden blind to be installed outside the window.746 The drawing
for this design is not marked as being a standard, but the list of standard drawings pre-
sented to the State Medical Board refered to a standard drawing for an external wooden
blind.747 The intention was to create the appearance of a gigantic wooden wall, when the
blinds were down.748 In addition, one unnumbered standard drawing showed the heat
insulation of the window sill, including the flashing, internal sill and steel window.749
Aalto aimed to use this solution that he had initially designed for another building in the
patient room window. This drawing showed that the architect was aware of the problems
of thermal conductivity with steel windows, also known as the thermal bridge.
A diagram of the joining of the patient room and exterior wall was yet another
indication of Aalto’s holistic intent. The section presented a double-sash steel window
with a ventilation window. The top sash was now perpendicular instead of slanted,
as they had been in the previous version. Wooden blinds were placed outside the
window. The floor rised towards the exterior wall in an S-shaped profile. A fixed desk
was installed in front of the window, with radiator pipes underneath. The width-to-
height ratios were measured and the angle of the sunlight was shown at 45 degrees.
742 See the competition drawings Nos. between 50-24 and 50-30, 50-32 and 50-33. AAM.
743 Severi Savonen and Niilo Mäkinen’s statements to the Building Board concerning Alvar Aalto’s competition entry
on April 4, 1929. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
744 Three drawings, all marked with a stamp “standard”, Nos. 50-53, 50-395 and 50-396, show the patient room
window and the related technical solutions. They are similar in content. In two of the drawings, the standard has
been marked with No. 6. AAM.
747 Work specification. Record No. 2466. State Medical Board 1930 Aa:4. NA.
748 Hahl 1933, p. 65.
749 Drawing No. 50-215 dated August 21, 1929 and related to Turun Sanomat Newspaper Buildling. AAM.
206
Fig. 3.4.1b. The vertical and horizontal sections of the sanatorium window and two perspective
drawings. The same image showed the angle of lighting on the desk, the ventilation, heating and
wooden shades. The patient room window and the related interior solutions were designed as one
complete entity. Undated, no initials. Drawing No. 50-181. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
207
The window opening height was lower than the room height. The joint between the
wall and the ceiling was coved.750 This diagram indicated how the solutions had yet
again been investigated further than in the previous version.
The final window solution for the patient room was developed through three
drawings. In the first drawing made for the contract calculations, a mullion ran
through the double-sash wooden window which opens both inwards and outwards
and was supported with a steel T-profile. The second version of the patient room
window was dated the following day. In the latter drawing, the window was a tri-
partite steel-framed window with wooden sashes. Both drawings are created by
architect Lauri Sipilä.751 The third drawing752, which corresponded to the windows
eventually realised, is by Lars Wiklund. The tripartite window had two transoms
running the depth of the structure. The middle row of windows, however, did not
have the same transoms as the top and bottom rows. Below the window elevation
drawing there was a diagram indicating the opening directions of the window frames.
The upper windows were top-hung, while the lower ones were bottom-hung and the
middle windows side-hung. Aalto coined this unusual solution as the “horizontal
health-window”. The solution legitimised the use of iron profiles to reinforce the
structure, which was Aalto’s personal ambition. It was important for Aalto to be able
to talk about wood-steel windows instead of simply wooden windows, as the latter
represented the traditional building method in Finland. With this new design, Aalto
set a new standard for “health” windows. His innovation was a clear departure from
the past.
In addition to the window standard drawings and the competition vignette image,
there were only five other drawings of steel windows drawn by the architect among
the architectural drawings.753 Details of Paimio Sanatorium steel windows and
doors, such as the stays, were not designed by Aalto’s office but by the manufacturer’s
drawing department. The architect’s remit was exclusively to draw diagrams. One
of the diagrams presented the steel window standards for the patient corridors and
special units.754 Another drawing was an extract of the former, drawn in pencil.755
A third drawing was a comprehensive presentation of the sanatorium’s steel win-
dows.756 The window wall in the lounge, with triangular, heated glazed cabinets for
plants, appeared in two drawings. The internal windows of the conversation space
were glazed according to the specifications using pitch pine beads. The two largest
windows in the end wall were glazed with eight-millimetre special glass and the plant
corner cabinets between these panes were heated with vertical radiator pipes running

751 Drawings Nos. 50-196 and 50-222 are related to this stage. AAM.
752 Drawing No. 50–321. AAM.
753 The drawings also include ones for interior windows, such as glazed lift walls, but these have been excluded from
this discussion.
754 Drawing No. 50-319. AAM
208
through the cavity. The large windows in the end wall and the outer window of one of
the corner cabinets were glazed from the outside using metal glazing beads.757 There
was also one pencil sketch of the window wall in question preserved in the archives.758
There were 17 architectural drawings related to wooden windows. Two of them
were designs for the wooden sliding windows, which did not correspond to the realised
windows. The drawings for the wooden windows were dated between August 1930 and
September 1931, with most dated between March and June 1931. They were mainly
drawn by architect Lars Wiklund. As a general observation, Aalto’s practice produced
a fairly large number of window details, and certain solutions recurred: most of the
wooden windows had coupled double-sash windows. The external pane was usually
fixed and the interior window could be opened for cleaning.759 The external panes were
fixed with glazing putty, and the inside panes with glazing beads. The method of clean-
ing the external window was not specified.
The use of different windows was hierarchical in relation to the space in which they
were used. Wooden windows were used in secondary spaces, such as the corridor off
the sundeck in A wing760, staircase E in C wing761 and the staff social room’s corner
window762 on the second floor of C wing. The architects were well-versed in this area,
which showed in the exhaustiveness and level of detail of the drawings.
There were two skylight drawings, presenting three different window types. One of
the drawings was related to the separate morgue and to skylights in the main lobby.763
In the other drawing, the top-glass of the cylindrical skylight in the operating theatre
was rough cast glass, installed at an angle of incline 1:20. The inner surface of the
cylinder was insulated with insulite. The top-part of the cylinder was equipped with
cups for collecting condensated water, with the surgical lamp fitted in the middle with
steel brackets and seven spot lights in the internal surface of the concrete cylinder. The
lower glass was a conical milk glass cap.764 The four cylindrical skylights in the main
lobby largely represented a similar window type as the one in the operating theatre,
only without electric light fittings. The drawings did not specify the lower glass but a
photograph765 taken from the newly completed lobby shows that the lower glass surface
was on the same level as the ceiling and not conical. The skylights were steel-framed.

759 This type of window was presented, for example, in drawings Nos. 50-165, 50-314 and 50-385. AAM.
765 Photograph No. 50-003-319. AAM.
209
3.4.2 WINDOW DELIVERIES
When presenting the final drawings to the Building Board in December 1929, Aalto
enquired about the possibility of using iron-framed windows. The Building Board
replied that the window frames had to be made of wood, but should Finnish-made
iron frames become available, the work specifications should leave a reservation for this
option.766 According to the work specification submitted to the State Medical Board
for approval, the staircases, corridors and dining halls in the main building would be
fitted with wood-iron-framed windows, the patient rooms with wood-iron windows or
wooden windows and the rest of the main building with wooden windows.767 When
discussing the work specification in May 1930, the Building Board left the decision
regarding the windows on the table.768 The window acquisitions became topical in
spring 1931. Aalto’s role in the window acquisitions was decisive, as the Building Board
authorised him to call for tenders for the windows and doors to the sanatorium.769
Crichton-Vulcan was a Turku-based machine workshop, shipyard and rope manu-
facturer with long traditions. Its tender for the various windows770 was enclosed with
two drawings drafted by the workshop’s drawing department, relating to the A wing
corridor windows.771 Chricton-Vulcan proposed 40 millimetre standard profiles with
double glazing in a single casement. The windows would be delivered with pitch pine
glazing beads and steel profiles with a single coating of anticorrosion paint. The brass
screws for the glazing beads were also included in the tender. The tender specified the
number, size and weight of each window type. The bronze fittings, including the hinges,
handles and locks were listed by window type and priced separately. The tender also
included the strip windows of the sundeck corridor772, which had been crossed out by
hand and the total price at the bottom of the tender was exclusive of these.773 They were
changed to wooden windows at the tender calculation stage.
Dated the same day was another tender placed by Crichton-Vulcan for the patient
room windows. It proposed three different methods of manufacturing the required 150
windows. The first two options specified a 32 millimetre standard profile steel window,
delivered sand blasted and with a single coat of anticorrosion paint, but without glaz-
ing. The third option, wood-framed with T-profile enforcements, was a substantially

767 Work specification. Record No. 2466. State Medical Board 1930 Aa:4. NA.
770 The tender covered the following windows: 6 x IR 12; 6 x IR 13; 102 x IR 14; 5 x IR 2; 17 x IR 22; 5 x IR 23; and
24 x IR 24. Cost estimate No. 6161/T-1079. Offer of Ab Chrichton-Vulcan Oy, April 7, 1931. Work, location and
material specifications and cost estimates. Contract agreements. PSA.
771 The drawings in questions, PF-33-½ and PF-34-½, are held at the drawings archive of Paimio Hospital. PSA.
772 Window type IR 24. Drawing No. 50-327. AAM.
773 Cost estimate No. 6161/T-1079. Offer of Ab Chrichton-Vulcan Oy, April 7, 1931. Work, location and material specifi-
cations and cost estimates. Contract agreements. PSA.
210
lower-cost alternative to iron-windows.774 The tender was based on two architect’s

drawings, 775 although the architectural drawings and the workshop specifications did
not fully correspond to each other. The second of the drawings had the word “rejected”
added to it in handwriting, probably at a later time, although the drawing largely cor-
responded to the realised window.776 The drawing that fully corresponded to Aalto’s
realised window design was made after Crichton-Vulcan’s tender had been accepted
and the architect had discussed the design with the workshop.777 The previous version
was crossed out at this stage. The variation was indicative of Aalto’s aim to develop a
window for the patient room that would in some manner make use of steel profiles.
Negotiations with Crichton-Vulcan’s highly competent staff allowed for the architect
to develop the technical solution for the window that satisfied all parties. The wooden
window designed as a result eventually had only a fraction of the intended steel profiles.
The Building Committee placed the hybrid window that had resulted from the col-
laboration under competitive tender with other manufacturers, although Crichton-Vul-
can had quoted a clearly lower price for them than the steel windows. The Building
Committee decided to order the patient room windows from Turun Puutyötehdas Oy,
as its quotation was only one-fourth of the price quoted by Crichton-Vulcan.778 From
a financial perspective, this was a sound decision. However, Crichton-Vulcan, which to
all intents and purposes was the developer of the window, in reality ended up handing
over its specialist expertise for which it received no remuneration.
The Building Committee ordered a number of steel windows from Crichton-
Vulcan.779 Aalto requested an offer from Crichton-Vulcan for the steel windows for the
rinsing and linen storage rooms780, six for each.781 The Building Committee decided to
also order the doors and windows for the staircases, balconies and ground-floor lobby
from the Crichton-Vulcan workshop. At the same time, the dining hall and lounge
windows were ordered from the same workshop following a number of changes made
to the offer, as requested by Aalto.782 Aalto had in the same regard suggested that the
774 According to the first option, the double-glazed windows, measuring 2,200 millimetres x 2,500 millimetres would
include three opening section, measuring 350 millimetres x 1,700 millimetres, and be fixed with glazing putty.
Each window would weigh 212 kilograms. In the second alternative, the windows would be otherwise similar but
fixed with pitch-pine glazing beads fastened with brass screws. In both options each window would be fitted with
12 bronze fittings. The cost of the former was FIM 2,670 and that of the latter FIM 2,920. The difference in price
being FIM 250. In the third alternative, the windows were made of iron and wood as specified in the architect’s
drawings. Its size was 2,200 millimetres x 2,550 millimetres and they had three opening sections, each 650 milli-
metres x 1,700 millimetres in size. The glass panes were fixed with glazing putty. The price excluding fittings was
FIM 1,650 and the fittings were separately priced. Cost estimate No. 6161/T-1079. Offer of Ab Chrichton-Vulcan Oy,
April 7, 1931. Work, location and material specifications and cost estimates. Contract agreements. PSA.
775 Drawings Nos. 50-380 dated April 2, 1931, and 50-196 dated April 3, 1932. AAM.
780 Window types IR 12 and IR 13. Drawing No. 50-328. AAM.
781 Request for offer addressed [by Aalto’s office] to Mr. Nylund of Crichton-Vulcan dated May 15, 1931. Documents
related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
211
dining hall windows be made from oak783 and requested an offer from Huonekalu- ja
rakennustyötehdas (Furniture and Building Work Factory).784 Aalto did not, however,
bring the oak alternative to the attention of the Building Committee.
Changes were made to several windows during the course of the building work.
The steel-profile staircase windows were realised as single-glazed, except for staircase
A windows, which had double-glazing. The entrance lobby windows were realised as
single-glazed and in addition some fixed windows were changed to opening ones and
vice versa.785 The orders for steel windows were placed in summer 1931 and they were
installed in the autumn of the same year. The Building Board discussed with some
indignation the delayed deliveries by Crichton-Vulcan and the exceeded cost estimates
during an economic low.786
The delivery of wooden windows from Kolhon Saha (Kolho Sawmill) at Vilppula
was also not completed without problems. Building inspector Ilmari Ahonen from
Turku787 paid a visit to the site and, as a result, requested that the building site foreman
inspect the delayed delivery from the sawmill. Clerk of works Kilpi took note of the
poor quality of the timber. In his opinion, a professional should know immediately
from the architectural drawings that the designs required premium quality timber. The
features Kilpi was referring to included coupled sashes, the double rebate on the frames
and tall mullions. All the frames delivered to the site were made of young timber and
the heartwood was visible in nearly all boards. Some of the material was excessively
tarry, some coarse-grained and overall it was too knotty. To conclude, Kilpi wrote: “We
regret the state of the Finnish timber industry as it is not looking after its own inter-
ests regarding the quality of products, even now as the iron industry is already gaining
ground in the window frame and sash markets.” 788
The Building Board decided to demand Kolhon Saha to replace the inferior quality
frames it had delivered with new ones and reserved the right to claim for damages.789
Kolhon Saha delivered part of the wooden windows for the sanatorium.790 The fittings
of the wooden windows were not included in the delivery, and the Building Board
obtained them as a separate purchase. In August 1931, the Building Board gave both
the wooden and steel window glazing contracts exclusively to a Turku-based company
783 Drawing No. 50-748 of the large wooden windows is dated May 29, 1931. AAM.
784 The dining hall windows, if made of oak, would have cost FIM 2,000 each. A letter from Huonekalu- ja Rakennus
työtehdas, signed by Otto Korhonen, to Alvar Aalto, dated May 30, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sana
torium project. AAM.
785 Window types IR 17, 18 and 20 would be realised without an opening window while IR 19 would be realised with
one. Window types IR 8, 9, 10a, 10b, 5u, 5s, 6 and 28 would be realised as based on D-63. The drawing in question
has not survived and was not available in the AAM archive.
787 The City of Turku contributed to the project with a substantial share and this probably made it necessary for
Ahonen to pay inspection visits to the sanatorium building site. Ahonen had multiple connections to the sanatori-
um project. He had been intended to be one of the participants in the invited competition and he had served as
the secretary for the final inspection of the concrete frame contract.
788 Kaarlo Kilpi’s statement, June 27, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium Project. AAM.
789 Building Board July 4, 1931, Section 3. PSA.
790 Aalto 1933b, p. 91.
212
Fig. 3.4.2a. The patient wing corridor is nearly 100 meters long. Photograph No. 50-003-330, photo from
the 1930s. AAM.
213
Kaune.791 The Building Board decided that ultraviolet glass, or U-glass, would only
be used in the windows of two patient floors, as instructed by a specialist physician.792
The building industry representatives were actively contacting Aalto and, in return,
Aalto asked sales representatives about the features of various part deliveries, obtain-
ing, as a result, information on innovations in the field. Some agents were also offering
foreign-made steel window systems for the project. In May 1931, the Helsinki-based
Nic. H. Mannsdorff approached the architect by advertising window fittings and
offered to draw up an offer for the Dutch Braat windows to be used in the Paimio
Sanatorium. The letter referred to a telephone conversation with Aalto and said that
the company had exclusive retail rights for Braat windows and doors in Finland.
Aalto had used the Crittal Braat system for the Turun Sanomat building, when the
Gothenburg company Torsten Linbeck had represented the system in Finland.793An
offer on Braat windows was never requested for Paimio Sanatorium. In December
1931, Aalto also received a letter from T. Bonnevie who, on behalf of Yale & Towne,
invited Aalto to visit the company’s workshop in Germany. Bonnevie also enquired in
his letter whether Aalto could send a sketch of Paimio Sanatorium, so that they could
prepare an offer on steel windows.794 Bonnevie was, naturally, much too late with his
queries at this stage of construction.
In February 1931, Aalto was in contact with the Helsinki company Hartkopp &
Krüger, who sent a letter to Aalto, written in German, regarding the special windows
for the operating theatre. The company had a suitable window for the theatre, manu-
factured by the German company, Garny. The window had been used in the operating
theatre of the Deaconess Hospital in Lötzen, East Prussia, where an operation had
been carried out requiring an indoor temperature of 28 degrees on a day when the
outdoor temperature had been -30 degrees centigrade. The window offered had coupled
sashes with an air lock in between, the temperature of which could be adjusted.795 The
design of the window at the Lötzen Deaconess Hospital helped Aalto understand the
special requirement for operating theatre windows.
Hartkopp & Krüger also sent Aalto an advertisement explaining the opening
mechanism of Vita Glasjalousien ventilation windows. Aalto subsequently applied a
similar solution in the dining hall of the B building.796 The patient room windows had
external blinds designed by Aalto, and the dining hall awnings, which were ordered
from Suomen Persiennetehdas (Finnish Shutter Factory).797

793 Aalto 1930c, p. 83.
794 Bonnevie’s letter to Alvar Aalto, December 2, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
795 Hartkopp & Krüger’s letter to Alvar Aalto February 17, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
214
Fig. 3.4.2b. The window drawing of the patient room, with the quantity, 150 pieces, added afterwards.
The window designed by Lauri Sipilä and dated April 3, 1932 had steel frames and wooden casements.
The request for quotation to Crichton-Vulcan was presumably based on this drawing. Drawing No.
50-196. The drawing has been edited AAM.
215
Fig. 3.4.2c. Drawing of the realised version of the patient room window. The two mullions of the middle row of
the nine-section window were supported by T-profiles. In the top and bottom rows, the mullion ran through
the structure. The drawing was dated April 28, 1931 and was drawn by Lars Wiklund. Drawing No. 50-321. The
Fig. 3.4.2d. Window diagram of steel windows. Drawing No. 50-328. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
216
Fig. 3.4.2e. Lounge windows of steel. Drawing No. 50-332. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.4.2f. Workshop drawing by Crichton-Vulcan of the strip window for the 100-metre long corridors.
The image showed that the middle window was top-hung. The drawing has been edited. PSA.
217
Fig. 3.4.2g. Window diagram of the wooden windows, showing the window types. Drawing
No. 50-311. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.4.2h. The image presented a double-glazed wooden window with the two opening casements
coupled. The outer window was fixed to the frame with putty and the inner casement was a wooden one
opening inwards. The fixed part was washable. Drawing No. 50-387. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
218
Fig. 3.4.2i. The skylight in the operating theatre. Drawing No. 50-267. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.4.2j. The dining hall shutter vent in B wing. The vent had a similar opening mechanism to the
health window. Drawing No. 50-352. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
219
3 . 4 . 3 T H E H O R I Z O N T A L H E A LT H W I N D O W
Aalto reduced the window area in the patient room by half during the competition
period, having been advised to do so by the medical expert of the State Medical
Board that financed the project. He gained advantage compared to the other com-
petitors as, in this way, he became privy to the medical expert’s opinion on the win-
dow size while the competition was still ongoing. The actions of the medical expert
as well as Aalto seem unethical. At the construction stage, Aalto also followed the
recommendation of medical experts by giving up the asymmetrical window that
partly reached down to the floor.
Aalto had previous experience of using foreign-made steel window systems in the
Southwest Finland Agricultural Cooperative Building, the Standard Apartment House
and the Turun Sanomat Building, in which he had made use of the Dutch Crittal Braat
steel windows and doors.798 Aalto kept in contact with the building element manu-
facturers and obtained information on new products. The key innovation of Aalto’s
window standards made for Brussels was the use of tubular profiles in sliding windows,
one sliding inside the other. The window systems used in Finland, such as the Crittal
Braat systems, typically employed fairly simple, straight-angle profiles. Tubular profiles
were used in the Braat system as a standard for corner joints.799 In Paimio Sanatorium,
the round profile was used exclusively in the detailing of the outer corners of the strip
windows in patient corridors of the A wing. Another special feature in Aalto’s windows
was that the interior sash of fixed windows could be opened for cleaning. This principle
was carried through to the wooden and steel windows used in the building.
Aalto drew up the window diagrams, measured the windows and determined their
maximum opening angle. Aalto’s office did not, however, design the details of the steel
windows for Paimio, and instead relied on the skills of Crichton-Vulcan’s drawing
department. Crichton-Vulcan determined the suitable profiles and drew up the detailed
working drawings. The drawings were signed by, at least, O. Nylander of Crichton-
Vulcan. Exquisite details that especially stood out were the serial window opening
devices used in the B wing reading room, dining hall and patient corridor. The windows
in Paimio Sanatorium were either outward or inward opening. According to European
modernists, inward-opening windows took up too much space while outward-opening
windows were difficult to clean.800 Thus the motivation behind Giedion’s exhibition of
sideways sliding sash windows was to provide a space-saving solution. Aalto apparently
gathered that using sideways sliding sash windows was not feasible in the harsh Finnish
climate, as the structure was unsealable. It was probably therefore, he did not propose
the use of this window type in Paimio Sanatorium. Aalto did, however, introduce a
whole sliding timber-framed glass wall in one of his later projects, Villa Mairea from
798 Aalto 1929a, p. 83; Aalto 1929d, p. 97; Aalto 1930c, p. 85.
799 Heikinheimo 2002, p. 70.
800 Standertskjöld 1992b, p. 92.
220
1939. Entire sliding glass walls in the treatment of tuberculosis had been used in the
state-of-the-art German sanatoria of the early 1900s.801
The construction of Paimio Sanatorium took place during a transitional period,
when the manufacturing of wooden windows had already moved to factories and
Finnish companies had begun producing steel windows, which thus far had been
imported.802 Around 1930, the steel window industry was gaining ground in Fin-
land as Finnish metal workshops started to bring steel frames onto the market. Steel
profiles, however, still continued to be imported from abroad. The local origin of the
steel windows in Paimio Sanatorium was of crucial importance for the developers.
The Turku-based Crichton-Vulcan was, in fact, the only workshop that was invited
to tender for them, unlike several other equally prominent ones that were based in
other towns in Finland. Aalto did not even bother corresponding on the matter of
steel windows with the representatives of Braat window systems, although they had
previously successfully supplied such systems for Aalto’s projects. On the other hand,
steel windows were widely exhibited at various shows, such the 1931 Berlin Building
Exposition, which Aalto attended.803 Steel windows eventually featured to a much
lesser extent at Paimio Sanatorium than Aalto would have preferred, as they were
more expensive than wooden windows or the hybrid solutions designed by Aalto.
Kaarlo A. Kilpi’s concern for the lack of quality control in the Finnish timber indus-
try would suggest that at least he and the then supervising architect, Ilmari Ahonen,
agreed on the issue. The fact that Kilpi addressed his letter to Ahonen, who represented
the City of Turku, was a way of putting pressure on the contractor. The contractor would
find it impossible to win any contracts from the major customer that the City of Turku
was, should it fail to comply with requirements. In his statement, Kilpi referred to the
quality problem as a general problem concerning the entire Finnish timber industry.804
He also mentioned that the Finnish timber industry, which did not pay adequate atten-
tion to the quality of its products, had only itself to blame if it lost market share to steel
window manufacturers. The Building Board most likely took notice of this episode and
it may have destabilised their opinion on the superiority of wooden windows.
The discussion on the quality of the construction work, materials and equipment
was topical in general. The Finnish Association of Architects had realised that norma-
tive building standards had become highly necessary. Architects were not familiar with
new building materials and methods, which left them at the mercy of the industry and
contractors.805 The episode with the Paimio Sanatorium wooden windows shows that
traditional materials also suffered from quality issues in industrial production.
801 Campbell 2005.

802 Prior to the 1930s, steel windows were imported from Germany, the Netherlands, Sweden and the UK. Heikin-
heimo 2002, p. 46.
803 Välikangas 1931, p. 107; Standertskjöld 1992b, p. 92.
804 Kaarlo Kilpi’s statement, June 27, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
805 A committee appointed in 1930 included Professors Onni Tarjanne, Jussi Paatela and architect Akseli Toivonen as
secretary. The compilation of normative standards. Anon [eds.] 1932c, pp. 17–19.
221
Coupled sashes were used in the 1930s, but this was not a traditional solution. A
typical double-sash wooden window would have been an inward-outward opening,
painted wooden window. Kilpi’s reprimand to Kolhon Saha (Kolho Sawmill), stating
that a professional craftsman should immediately be able to see from the drawings that
the solution required premium-quality windows, was fair. Aalto used steel windows
in the public spaces such as staircases, dining halls and patient corridors. Apparently
he attempted to use oak windows in the dining hall, or at least he considered them a
possible alternative. Varnished oak windows were considered especially distinguished
in the architecture of the day.
Aalto also wanted to use steel windows in the patient room, which was of particu-
lar ideological value to him. The window was eventually realised as a hybrid made of
wood and steel. In the Finnish context, wooden-framed windows were less expensive
than the steel ones: Finnish-made steel windows were not mass-produced and were
available only to order although they were made from industrially produced steel
profiles. Designers took pains to develop a wooden window standard that, quite nec-
essarily, incorporated steel elements.
The patient room windows were an essential and salient architectonic feature in
the sanatorium, and underwent a complete overhaul in the time leading to the final
realisation. Besides changing from a steel window to a hybrid window, Aalto also
developed the window as a holistic concept, integrally linked with heating, ventila-
tion and the amount of daylight benefitting the patient. He wrote in a publication
aimed at Swedish architects in 1932: “The patient room has, among others, the
following characteristics: morning sun on the patients’ beds, afternoon sun on the
front part of the room, in front of the window. Double glazed windows in wood
with L-shaped frames, with permanent ventilation through glass panes with vertical
openings. Exposure to the sun can be adjusted using the external blinds …”.806 Aalto
discussed the idea of continuous ventilation, and considering that he was addressing
his professional peers, this question may be interpreted as a sign of his intention to
design a wall-sized sliding window for the patient room. With this rhetorical gesture,
he wanted to demonstrate his expertise about the overlapping trends in health care
and architecture. Naturally, the timber-framed window was not designed to be kept
continuously open in the Finnish weather conditions.
The ventilation took place horizontally through the central row of windows, which
is why there could be no mullions. The wooden-framed large window opening would
have required a sturdier frame for structural reasons had the frame been wooden. Now
that the frames were built equal in strength to the sash, they had to be reinforced with
steel profiles both on the exterior and interior window. A window combining wood and
steel was genuinely a hybrid. Wooden windows were not of any interest to the media.
This was why Aalto highlighted in all publicity wooden windows reinforced with steel
806 Aalto 1932, p. 30.
222
profiles and their vertical ventilation air flow. The window systems of the patient room
were a victory for him, in the rhetorical sense. The thick-framed windows were not a
victory for Aalto in the aesthetic sense, as he was keen to create an impression of a glass
wall that was perpetually open. On the other hand, by drawing the attention of his
target audience to the concept of the “health window”, Aalto succeeded in translating
their opinions into ones favouring his hybrid window.
Aalto’s design of a window reaching to the floor, which still existed at the competi-
tion stage, was reminiscent of André Lurçat’s tourist hotel in the Mediterranean (1927),
while, according to Heinonen, the plant windows at Paimio Sanatorium were inspired
by the refurbished Palmgarten restaurant in Frankfurt am Main (1929).807 Aalto may
have paid a visit to the restaurant when attending the CIAM seminar in Frankfurt am
Main in August 1929. Plant windows first appeared in the floor plan for B wing, dated
May 24, 1930.808 Aalto had used similar oblique display cabinets on the ground level
of Turun Sanomat building.
There had been attempts in Germany in the 1920s to incorporate skylights into
new architecture. In 1924, German architect Hugo Häring divided the functions of the
windows in a dwelling into three categories: lighting, ventilation and views.809 Häring
favoured toplight over sidelight, as this made a room easier to furnish, the light fell from
the same direction as natural light and natural ventilation was easy to arrange through
a skylight. 810 For Le Corbusier, the strip window was at once a structural, aesthetic
and lighting-related solution.811 In his view, the use of a reinforced concrete structure
automatically led to the use of strip window, which in turn provided four times as
much daylight as a vertical sash window. Le Corbusier considered the strip window to
be the foundation of the new architectural aesthetic. He also sketched diagrams for a
window-cleaning platform.812
The skylights in the entrance lobby and operating theatre at Paimio Sanatorium
were fitted with milk glass sheets to provide diffuse light. In the entrance lobby,
electrical light fittings were situated alongside skylights affording daylight into the
space, while in the operating theatre the lights were fitted within the skylight cyl-
inder. According to Norvasuo, Aalto was influenced in his design for the operating
theatre window by a lecture given by a German doctor in 1928, subsequently cited by
Kjäldman.813 It would seem more likely that it was Markelius’ view on the operating
theatre windows seen at the hospital section of the Stockholm Exhibition as well
as Garny’s advertisement of similar equipment that helped Aalto arrive at his own
window solution for Paimio.
807 Heinonen 1986, pp. 239–240.

809 Häring 1965 [1924], p. 14; Norvasuo 2009, p. 43.
810 Häring 1965 [1924], p. 14.
811 Le Corbusier, 1928b, pp. 96–106; Norvasuo 2009, p. 47.
812 Le Corbusier, 1928b, pp. 96–106.
813 Norvasuo 2009, p. 84.
223
True to his international ideology, Aalto was more interested as an architect in using
industrially produced shallow-profile steel windows than Finnish-made wooden win-
dows. However, steel windows were more expensive and they needed to be imported.
At a time of recession, imports were regulated and local production was favoured. At
the early stages of the work, the Building Board had agreed on the use of steel windows
on the condition that they were made in Finland. For this reason, Aalto never invited
tenders from foreign window manufacturers, whose products he had used in his earlier
work. He mobilised the site supervisor to raise the issue of the quality of industrially
produced wooden windows and turn it into a wider question of principle regarding
the Finnish timber industry, with the likely ulterior motive of influencing the views
of the Building Board on wooden windows. When the final decision had been made
that the patient rooms would not be fitted with steel windows owing to their high cost,
Aalto developed a new type of wooden window which necessitated the use of some
steel profiles for structural reasons. This window was like the traditional ventilation
window, known as the “health window”, only this time horizontal in orientation. Rec-
ommended and well known by doctors, the health window had been used since the
early 19th century in schools, hospitals and other public buildings. By reiterating this
concept and defining his window as a “health window”, Aalto managed to translate the
opinion of medical experts and win them over to his side. It was a question of cultural
classification of window solutions. Aalto’s unusual window design required the use of a
few steel components, which entitled him to talk about an innovation and a hybrid. A
material hybrid was for Aalto a conceptual victory over a traditional window. This was
a significant achievement for Aalto, who could now postulate his solution to his peers
in the media. In addition to other innovations implemented in the Paimio Sanatorium
project, Aalto was also an innovator of windows, and took the project in the direction
he wanted. While the outcome was not ideal from the architect’s own perspective, it
is likely to have been an acceptable compromise. Doctors had requested in their state-
ments after the architectural competition that the windows were not to reach to floor
level for reasons of hygiene. Aalto changed the windows accordingly so that the bottom
edge of all window sections was level. He also changed the shape of the floor so that
it curved upwards near the window, so that visually, the window was connected to the
floor in the final, realised version. The doctors were given the hygienic standard they
had asked for, and the architect had windows reaching to the floor. This example is
illustrative of the unpredictability of the evolution of technological solutions – it is
impossible to know at the beginning of a project, what kind of artefacts will ultimately
be realised as a result of the trials. A static artefact, in this case a window in the finalised
building gives no clues to the process of which they are the result.814
814 See Latour and Yaneva 2008, pp. 80–89.
224
3 . 5 T H E S TA N D A R D I S E D PAT I E N T R O O M
T
his section discusses the architectural design of the most typical patient room,
the twin room: its spatial and related technical systems, fixtures, furniture and
equipment. The patient rooms were to have 25 cubic metres for each patient.
The patients required a sufficient amount of fresh air to breathe in order to foster the
best possible conditions for recovery.815
Aalto’s office placed the furniture purchases for the sanatorium into four catego-
ries.816 The first category included fixtures to be designed by the architectural practice.
The only built-in furniture in the patient room was the table to be installed in front of
the window. Loose furniture was divided into two categories, those designed by the
architectural office and those purchased as ready-made standard items. The suppliers
of the latter would be required to provide samples for appraisal.This category included
iron beds and sofas, sundeck recliners, wardrobes, nightstands and certain tables. The
fourth category was the chairs, which were also classified as standard furniture. Offers
for medical equipment and other related special furniture would be received by the
consulting medical advisor and, if necessary, he could refer the designs to the architect
for an opinion.817 The sanatorium furniture acquisitions became topical in April 1932
and the Building Board authorised the Building Committee to purchase the beds and
other furnishings for the sanatorium.818
3 . 5 .1 T H E M E TA M O R P H O S I S O F T H E WA R D R O B E
In the earliest of the architect’s sketches, the patient room wardrobes were made of metal.
The common features in the four-leg metal wardrobes were the slanted top-part of the
wardrobe and the rounded corners. Otherwise, the design was basically rectangular. The
right angle between the side panel of the wardrobe and the wall was stabilised with an
angle iron and the shelves rested on angle irons.819 In the next stage, the wardrobe material
had been changed to plywood with a batten frame. The corner battens were rounded to
create softly curving edges to the wardrobe. The plywood panels were straight and the
shelves were supported by tubular profiles. This as well as the previous version was drawn
by Lars Wiklund.820
815 The Programme for the Architectural Competition of the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland. Var-
sinais-Suomen tuberkuloosiparantolan rakennuslautakunta (The Building Board for the Tuberculosis Sanatorium
of Southwest Finland) 1928a.
816 An acquisition plan of furniture created by Alvar Aalto’s architectural practice. Building Committee April 10, 1932,
Section 2. PSA.
817 An acquisition plan of furniture created by Alvar Aalto’s architectural practice. Building Committee April 10, 1932,
Section 2. PSA.
225
Fig. 3.5a. View of the patient room towards the window wall. Photographer Gustaf Welin. Photo No.
50-003-360. AAM.
226
Marked as a standard, a drawing dated April 28, 1932 of the patient room wardrobe
illustrated the general appearance of the final design.821 The drawing already featured
the idea behind the wooden structure, which made essentially for a “frameless” wardrobe.
In the fourth drawing, the design of the metal wardrobe was also marked as a standard.
As such, the schematic drawing was not ready for execution. The structure of the wardrobe
had been simplified and, for example, the angle irons have been abandoned. The straight
door was placed in the front of the wardrobe. The door panel and the side of the metal
wardrobe were reinforced with metal sheets. The sides of the wardrobe slanted, marking
the designers attempt to depart from the traditional rectangular design.822 This was an
alternative to the wooden wardrobe.
The starting point for offers invited was possibly Lauri Sipilä’s drawing of a
wooden wardrobe, dated May 17, in which the back and bottom panel were made of
double-layer and the sides of single-layer plywood some eight millimetres thick. The
metal parts, the coat rails and brackets and the legs, were nickel plated. The wardrobe
had been specified to be painted with first-class enamel paint both inside and outside.
All shelves were perforated. The legs made of flat bar iron were shaped to form a
circular shape to align with the curving shape of the skirting board.823
The offers were addressed to Aalto. Three offers by furniture manufacturing companies
were placed on time on May 18, and one after the offer period closed. N. Boman offered
to manufacture the wardrobes for the price of FIM 625 each,824 while Huonekalutehdas
ja Sorvimo quoted FIM 1,150825 and Laaksosen Huonekalutehdas FIM 650 per item.
The offer of the latter also included an alternative method of manufacturing, by which the
wardrobes would have painted legs, the straight sides would be at a slanted angle and the
front corner rounded, priced FIM 75 lower.826 The quotation from Huonekalu- ja Raken-
nustyötehdas (Furniture and Building Work Factory), headed by Otto Korhonen, arrived a
week later than those of the others and it offered to manufacture the wardrobes as specified
for a lower price than the others. The price of an ordinary wardrobe manufactured at the
factory was FIM 520 and the factory’s own standard model was priced at FIM 450–510,
depending on the details. Moreover, one of the standard wardrobes had been delivered
to the sanatorium for appraisal.827 It is likely that during the week between May 17 and
23 that Korhonen’s offer was delayed, the factory together with Aalto was taking pains to
produce a sample wardrobe. The processing of the matter continued. J. Merivaara furniture
manufacturing company was also invited to submit an offer on the wardrobes, which it did.

824 An offer of the N. Boman limited trade company to Alvar Aalto related to the Sanatorium of Southwest Finland,
May 17, 1932. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
825 Manufacturer Huonekalutehdas and Sorvimo’s (Furniture Factory and Turnery) offer to the Sanatorium of the South-
west Finland signed by Emil Hongisto, May 18, 1932. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
826 A cost estimate from Laaksosen Huonekalutehdas Oy (Laaksonen Furniture Factory), signed by K. Laaksonen,
dated on May 18, 1932. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
827 A letter from Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas to Alvar Aalto, dated May 23, 1932. Documents related to the
Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
227
HYGIENE EQUIPMENT OF THE PATIENT ROOM
Fig. 3.5.1a. The first version of the patient room wardrobe was from January 1932 and it was a metal-
framed one. In the earliest of the architect’s sketches, the patient room wardrobes were made of metal.
The common features of the metal wardrobes, which had four legs, were the slanted top-part of the
wardrobe and the rounded corners. Otherwise, the design was basically rectangular. The right angle
between the side panel of the wardrobe and the wall was stabilised with an angle iron and the shelves
rested on angle irons. Detail of drawing No. 50-276. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.5.1b. The drawing is marked “rejected”. At this stage, the wardrobe material had been changed
to plywood with a batten frame. The corner battens were rounded to create softly curving edges. The
plywood panels were straight and the shelves were supported by tubular profiles. The drawing is
dated February 5, 1932 and was drawn by Lars Wiklund. Drawing No. 50-266. The drawing has been
edited. AAM.
228
Fig. 3.5.1c. The drawing, which is marked as a standard, shows the idea of the wardrobe that was built. It
does not, however, show all the structural details possibly in order to prevent it from being plagiarised. The
drawing is dated April 28, 1932. Drawing No. 50-189. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.5.1d. The design of the metal wardrobe was marked as standard. As such, the schematic drawing was not
ready for execution. The structure of the wardrobe has been simplified and, for example, the angle irons have
been abandoned. A straight door has been placed in the front of the wardrobe. The door panel and the side
of the metal wardrobe were reinforced with metal sheets. The sides of the wardrobe were slanted, marking
the designers attempt to depart from the traditional rectangular design. The drawing was dated April 29, 1932.
229
Fig. 3.5.1e. Lauri Sipilä’s drawing was dated May 17, 1932. At this stage, the wardrobe material was
wood, and the rounded shape originally designed for a metal wardrobe was retained. The offer and
the sample wardrobe of the Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas company was based on this drawing.
Fig. 3.5.1f. Further changes to the wardrobes were developed in the autumn. In a drawing dated
September 27 and signed by Lauri Sipilä, a two-part wardrobe for two patients has been placed in the
four-bed patient rooms, with straight doors, slanted sides and rounded outer corners. The wardrobe
was divided into a top unit attached to the wall and a separate shoe cabinet with a table top. Drawing
No. 50-239. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
230
The alternatives were a wardrobe which would be made based on Aalto’s model, probably
the design dated April 29, for FIM 515 or another version, priced at FIM 475. These
alternatives would be manufactured by machine from flattened iron plate and painted in
the shade required by the architect, as illustrated in the sample wardrobes delivered by the
factory.828 The Building Board had thus received one plywood wardrobe and two iron plate
wardrobes for appraisal, all designed by Aalto, based on which the Building Board decided
to order the plywood wardrobes from Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas for the prices
approved by the Building Committee.829 The factory produced altogether 280 wardrobes
for the patient rooms for FIM 465 each.830 Aalto did not disqualify himself, although he
was the designer of the standard wardrobe produced by Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas.
In a drawing dated September 27, 1932 and signed by Lauri Sipilä, a two-part
wardrobe for two patients has been placed in the four-bed patient rooms, with straight
doors, slanted sides and rounded outer corners. At this stage, the outer corners no longer
feature a timber frame.831
Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas Oy’s 1932 brochure recommended the compa-
ny’s special standard furniture for the home, public spaces and hospitals. According
to the brochure, the furniture had no back and it was highly hygienic. The furniture
offered added comfort in spaces where surfaces must be easy to keep clean. The factory
advertised that the furniture comprised standard pieces and was the result of meticulous
testing. There was a photograph on the second page of the brochure of the plywood
plinth painted in a light colour.832
828 J. Merivaara’s offer to the Building Board of the Sanatorium of Southwest Finland, June 2, 1932. Documents
829 Building Board June 14, Section 7, 1932. PSA.
830 A list of furniture produced for the Sanatorium of Southwest Finland, March 15, 1933. KOR.
832 The brochure of the Huonekalu- and Rakennustyötehdas entitled “Soft Wooden Chair” was printed at the earliest
in 1932, because the cabinet described in it was only developed in 1932. Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas Oy,
s.a., 1932?.
231
Fig. 3.5.1g. The wardrobes of the museum room of the former sanatorium in 2015. Photograph Ark-byroo.
232
3 . 5 . 2 O T H E R F U R N I T U R E O F T H E PAT I E N T R O O M
Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas (Furniture and Building Work Factory) manufac-

tured a total of 300 nightstand and cabinet combinations priced at FIM 250 each.833
J. Merivaara furniture manufacturing company had also offered a nightstand model
used in the Finnish Red Cross Hospital for FIM 425 each.834 The nightstand was
classified as standard furniture in the furniture purchase listing. However, the san-
atorium eventually ordered a piece designed by Aalto, which was less expensive to
manufacture than standard pieces by other manufacturers. Aalto took no part in the
discussion on this issue, disqualifying himself, as he was the designer of the piece in
question and stood to gain financially form the order.835
No architectural drawings or work specifications have been preserved of the night-
stand-cabinet combination. The unit comprised two parts. The bottom part was a closed
volume with a cabinet and two drawers. The cabinet part was fitted with caster wheels
and framed by a tubular structure that supported a table top. Nested inside the tubular
frame, the unit took up less space, but the two parts could also be used separately. Its
height was designed so that the table top could be used as an overbed table.
The desk was the only piece of furniture classified as a fixture. It was installed in front
of the window.836 Aalto invited offers for different surface materials and treatments. The
options were birch plywood, painted desk; a plywood table with an Okoumé or flame
birch veneer with Becko varnish; or a pitch-pine Becko-varnished desk. Five factories
placed an offer.837 Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas’ offer is dated two to three days
later than those of the other companies in the competition and it quoted only a slightly
lower price than the three offers placed earlier. Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas, again,
won the order.
An undated axonometric drawing shows the patient-room bed executed with a
tubular steel frame with curving end-panels. The panel at the foot of the bed is lower
than the headboard. The architect used sketches to study the bending of the tubular
leg as well as the shape and scaling of the end-panels.838 None of the versions include
casters. The execution differed from the drawings for the part of the tubular frame.
The patient-room twin beds were positioned along one wall with the end facing the
wall. J. Merivaara submitted an offer for the hospital beds based on their own standard
model.839 The beds were eventually ordered from August Louhen Rautasänkytehdas
833 A Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas invoice, March 15, (1933). KOR.

834 J. Merivaara’s offer to the Building Board of the Sanatorium of Southwest Finland, April 7, 1932. Documents relat-
ed to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
837 An offer from Laaksosen Huonekalutehdas, May 3, 1932; an offer from Oy Puutehdas Ab, May 4, 1932; an offer
from Oy Huonekalutehdas ja Sorvimo, May 4, 1932; an offer from N. Boman Oy, May 4, 1932; and an offer from Oy
Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas Ab, May 6, 1932. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
838 Drawings Nos. 50-143, 50-154, 50-156 and 50-182. AAM.
839 J. Merivaara’s offer to the Building Board of the Sanatorium of Southwest Finland, April 7, 1932. Documents relat-
ed to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
233
PATIENT ROOM FURNITURE
Fig. 3.5.2a. The plywood-top desk fitted in front of the patient room window.
Fig. 3.5.2b. The patient rooms were fitted with a fixed screen between the door and the washbasins.
234
Fig. 3.5.2c. An undated drawing shows the patient room bed executed with a tubular steel frame with
headboards of bent plywood, offering privacy for the patient. The footboard was also of bent plywood,
but lower. The head and footboards were eventually made as straight. Drawing No. 50-182. The
Fig. 3.5.2d. Bedside table for the patient room

manufactured by Huonekalu- ja Rakennus
työtehdas. Photograph Ark-byroo. 2015.
235
(August Louhi Iron Bed Factory) for a slightly lower price. It was recorded in the
minutes that architect Aalto did not participate in the discussion on the matter.840Aalto
again excused himself as he was the designer of the piece in question and stood to
gain financially from the order. August Louhen Rautasänkytehdas served as a subcon-
tractor for Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas in the manufacturing process of Aalto’s
tubular-frame chairs in the early 1930s.841
Standard No. 6, presenting the overall solution for the patient room, shows a chair
placed in front of the window. The chair was drawn as a metal-leg chair with a plywood
seat. There are two drawings amongst the drawings corresponding to this chair, one
illustrating the bending of the plywood seat842 and the other a stackable, light-weight
chair seen from different angles and a detail.843 In the design of the patient room, Aalto
had the opportunity to use the world’s first “soft wooden chair” that had been introduced
in 1929 at Turku’s 700th anniversary exhibition.844 The advertisement of Huonekalu- ja
Rakennustyötehdas from 1934 presented the realised version of the patient room chair.
The fully timber-structured chair was assigned number 51 and was called the miniature
easy chair. It was recommended as suitable for meetings rooms, hospitals and other such
spaces, and it could be stacked. The frame of the chair in the advertisement was polished
birch and it had a hard seat.845 Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas manufactured a total
of 300 such chairs for the patient rooms, that is, two for each twin room.846 As far as
is known, no other offers were invited on the chairs except the one from Huonekalu-
ja Rakennustyötehdas. Seating formed a separate category in Aalto’s purchasing list,
purchased ready-made.

841 Mikonranta 2002.
844 Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas Oy, s.a., 1932?.
845 Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas Oy, published January 1, 1934.
846 An invoice of the Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas on the furniture for the Sanatorium of Southwest Finland,
March 15, (1933). KOR.
236
PATIENT ROOM CHAIR
Fig. 3.5.2e. “Soft wooden

chair” was advertised in the
carpentry shop’s brochure of
1934. This chair type was the
first suggestion for the patient
room. Photo No. 105890. AAM.
Fig. 3.5.2f. Huonekalu- ja

Rakennustyötehdas’ chair No.
51, or the small arm chair, was
used in the patient room. The
chair was stackable. Photo No.
105931. AAM.
237
3.5.3 FIXED HYGIENE EQUIPMENT OF THE
PA T I E N T R O O M
Maintaining high standard of hygiene was a key ritual at a tuberculosis sanatorium

and a designer’s interest would particularly focus on furnishings that would allow for
immaculate hygiene. The schematic diagram (Fig.3.5.3b) showed the shape and posi-
tioning of two basins, a spittoon with a drain placed between them and a screen stand-
ing between the washbasin area and the door. The diagram illustrated the placement of
piping in the rising within the wall facing the corridor. The drawing was signed with
the initials “H.H”.847 Another drawing illustrating the design of the washbasins is a
freehand schematic diagram of two round washbasins. They have been marked with the
taps, the location of the water pipe, the spittoon and the screen wall. The drawing is by
Lars Wiklund.848 The Building Committee authorised Aalto to negotiate with the Ara-
bia porcelain factory an order of Finnish-made special washbasins for the patient rooms,
provided that these would be less expensive than foreign alternatives and that the State
Medical Board would approve of them.849 The washbasin standard for the patient room
drawn by Erling Bjertnæs was included in the documentation. The basin had been given
measurements and the water trap was enclosed in the riser.850 The Building Committee
decided to order the basins from the Finnish china factory, Arabia.851
Among the drawings created by the architectural office there are two photomontages
illustrating the use of the washbasins, which have been made for presentations. One of
them includes an inscription: “No noises, no water splashes when washing your hands
in running water, because the basin china is at a 45-degree angle”. Neither drawing is
dated or marked with the draughtsman’s initials.852
The patient room spittoon is presented in two standard drawings. They differ from
each other in the placement of the water trap, which is placed in the riser in one draw-
ing and in the room in the other. Both drawings show a conical glass spittoon with an
inward-curling rim with water running inside the rim fed by a 20-millimetre pipe.853 A
third drawing shows two variations of a glass spittoon with a circular flush and bottom
valve. Type A has a straight and Type B an angled rotational piece. Type A has been
referred to as the perfect rotational piece. Based on the handwriting, the drawing is
probably by Alvar Aalto.854 The drawing in question represents yet another attempt to
develop a universal type.

851 Building Committee November 20, 1931, Section 3. PSA.
854 The drawing No. 50-192 beared the initials “A.A.” AAM.
238
Fig. 3.5.3a. ”No noises, no water splashes when washing your hands in running water, because the
basin china is in position of 45 degrees.” Drawing No. 50-950. AAM.
239
HYGIENE EQUIPMENT OF THE PATIENT ROOM
Fig. 3.5.3b. This drawing, in which the design is still unrefined, shows the key hygiene fittings for the
patient room. Drawing No. 50-365. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.5.3c. The installation of pipes and washbasin in the patient rooms, according to the plumber
contractor’s drawings. Drawing No. 102-4. The drawing has been edited. PSA.
240
Fig. 3.5.3d. The glass spittoon designed by the architect was equipped with a circular rinsing action and
bottom drain. Drawing No. 50-192. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
241
Fig. 3.5.3e. The glass shelf of the patient room was manufactured by Karhula glass factory.
Photograph Ark-byroo.
Above the washbasins, glass shelves were commissioned. The drawings also included
two glass shelves with covers855, which were probably designed for the operating theatre,
and one iron plate shelf.856 No architectural designs for the final glass shelf exist. The
Building Board refused to pay the supplier of the glass shelves, Lasitehtaitten Myyn-
tikeskus (Glass Factories’ Sales Company), more than had originally been agreed. 857
The Committee favoured Finnish-made light fittings and decided that, at most,
one quarter of them could be foreign-manufactured.858 The draft list of light fit-
tings included four special lights, one for the overhead light in the patient room,
the bedside lamp, table lamp A and a table lamp. Special lamps were made to
order.859 The architect’s goal was, in other words, to design the lights for the patient
rooms himself. The patient rooms also had small conical fixed wall lamps above the
washbasins, “wall plinth B”, 860 designed by the architect.
Taito Oy manufactured the overhead lights and the other lights for the patient
rooms.861 The architect created a standard for the overhead light in the patient room
and handed it over to the manufacturer. The bottom of the drawing reads: “Special light
for the patient room. The reflector will be surfaced as instructed later. Other parts white
enamel. The protective glass may possibly be left out, in which case the removable part
could instead be fixed, but equipped with a small hatch for changing the night lamp.

857 Building Board March 6, 1933, Section 6. PSA.
861 A letter of Oy Taito Ab lamp manufacturing company to Aalto, September 11, 1932. Documents related to the
242
Metalwork zinc or similar.”862 The light fitting was hygienic, as the protective glass
kept the light free of accumulating dust. The final realised version was simpler than the
design and does not correspond to the architect’s drawing. For example, the night lamp
downwards-reflecting light was completely omitted from the final execution. In one of
the sketches drawn by the architect two shapes for the overhead light in the patient room
were outlined: one that was presented in the standard and the one that was eventually
realised.863 It is difficult to draw any conclusions based on this regarding the degree
to which the manufacturer influenced the final design. It seems that the manufacturer
guided the architect towards lower production costs. Paavo Tynell’s contribution to the
design becomes evident in the sketch for the corridor lights, which was created by him
and on which he had entered comments about the structure of the fitting.864 In other
words, Tynell drew the concept drawings for the corridor lights, which Aalto’s office
developed further into a second standard.865 Prior to this, the architect and lighting
designer probably held discussions on what the light fitting should be like.
A table lamp was designed for the patient rooms, with the plan to order a total of 320
units in three different colours.866 One of the architect’s sketches outlined the shape of
the patient room table lamp.867 Again, it is difficult to discern, whether the sketch came
before the realisation or whether it was drafted based on the manufacturer’s suggestion.
The Building Committee approved the acquisition of a patient room lamp that could be
used both as a table and night lamp.868 Only 180 patient room table lamps were bought
all in one colour and they were supplied by Idman company.869 Idman was, at that time,
a reseller for Taito Oy lamp manufacturing company, so it is most likely that Paavo
Tynell was the designer of the lights purchased from Idman.870 The lights in question
could be installed at the end of the bed or placed on the bedside table.

863 Drawing No 50-753. AAM.
866 A list of lamps of the Sanatorium of Southwest Finland created by Alvar Aalto’s architectural practice. Documents
870 According to an advertisement promoting artistic light fittings of the Taito company, in Domus magazine, its lamps
were mainly sold by the Stockmann Department Store and Idman company. Oy Taito Ab 1933, p. 3.
243
LIGHT FITTINGS OF THE PATIENT ROOM
Fig. 3.5.3f. The overhead light designed by Aalto’s office, from 1932. According to the instructions, the
reflector would be surfaced as specified later. The other parts would be white enamel. The protective
glass could probably be left out, in which case the removable part could as well be fixed. In the latter
option, a small hatch would have to be added for changing the nightlight. The metal was designed to be
zinc or similar material. Drawing No. 50-191. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
244
Fig. 3.5.3g. The
overhead light in the
patient room was
manufactured by Taito.
Photograph Ark-byroo,
2015.
Fig. 3.5.3h. The nightlight in the patient room Fig. 3.5.3i. Small conical lights were installed
was manufactured by Taito. above the washbasins.
Photograph Ark-byroo, 2015. Photograph Ark-byroo, 2015.
245
Fig. 3.5.4a. A newly completed patient room. Photo No. 50-003-361. AAM.
3 . 5 . 4 I N T E G R AT I O N O F T H E H E AT I N G ,
D R A I N AG E , WAT E R A N D E L E C T R I C I T Y I N T
HE
Besides furniture and fittings, the patient room interior was influenced by the way in
which the architect managed to integrate various technical systems into the design.
He approached the design solutions in specific fields from a holistic perspective, as
discussed in earlier chapters in relation to the window design and hygiene equipment.
In the early stages of the design, the heating of the patient room was arranged solely
by means of fixed radiator pipes under the desk. Two round washbasins and the conical
spittoon in between had drains and the pipes were placed in the risers within the wall
facing the corridor. The spittoon and washbasins had separate drains. The architectural
drawings showed no water traps. 871
871 The drawing was signed by “H.H.” Drawing No. 50-365. AAM.
246
Fig. 3.5.4b. The functional principles of the standard patient room ceiling as shown in the drawing
with the darker and lighter sections, the latter serving as a reflector for the overhead light. The
drawing also shows a place for the radiator mounted on the ceiling. The drawing was created
for the 1932 article in Byggmästaren. Drawing No. 50-372. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Standard 6 relating to the window system in the patient room has already been
discussed in depth in the Section 3.4 on windows. Although the architect had aimed
to integrate various systems, the ceiling showed no evidence of ceiling heaters.872 The
interior and ceiling diagrams for the patient room were first published in the Swedish
journal Byggmästaren (The Master Builder) in 1932, by which time the principles for
the interior design and technical systems had taken shape but were not yet finalised.
In the published ceiling diagram with Swedish annotations, the ceiling was shown as
mainly dark, except for the area around the overhead lamp, which was light in colour.
According to the commentary, the light-coloured surface served as a reflector for the
elongated ceiling lamp. In addition, the diagram included a radiator heater.873

247
Fig. 3.5.4c. Diagram of the patient’s room created for the article appearing in
Byggmästaren. Drawing No. 50-636. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
In an undated interior diagram for the patient room, the functional principles of
the room have taken shape: the horizontal airing mechanism of the window was indi-
cated with arrows, the washbasins were in place and the furnishing of the room were
complete.874 Marked with annotations in Swedish, the diagram was made by adding to
a previous drawing and was published in Byggmästaren in 1932.875
In these drawings, which were created for presentation purposes at the time of their com-
pletion, the ideas and forms of objects corresponded to reality. The diagram presented the
completed room with the essential solutions numbered.876 The German-language patient
room diagram included two drawings: the functions of the floor and the ceiling respectively.
The annotations in German have been translated into English and the translations have
been added to the drawing by hand. In addition to the correct scaling of the furniture, the
diagram also illustrated the window solutions, airing, the washbasins and spittoons, and the
ventilation system. The load-bearing structures, the risers in the corridor-facing wall and the
opening of the riser onto the corridor have been presented. One of the diagrams showed
the functional principles of the ceiling in their final form: the shape of the dark and light-
coloured areas, the lighting and the positioning of the radiator heater. However, the size of
the reflective areas compared to reality was exaggerated in the image.877

248
Fig. 3.5.4d. In this diagram, the wardrobes are in their final form, as are the ceiling radiators.
249
Fig. 3.5.4e. This sheet has been created for a presentation by the designer wishing to introduce his
central ideas. The text is of great interest since it likens the sanatorium to a collective house and
the patient room to an apartment. Drawing No. 50-400. AAM.
A sheet created for presentations, a compilation of drawings and photographs, summa-

rised the architects’ intentions regarding the patient room: “In a collective dwelling-house
(sanatorium) the private room demonstrates the individual part of the residence, sleeping,
private hygiene etc. Maximum of morning-sun / minimum of afternoon-sun / (sun-
curtain) / permanent ventilation through windows / heating by rays by ceiling radiator
(also cooler air and minimum inner air circulation in the room) / no shadow angle under
the window/lamps out of sight (sleeping) / ⅓ of wall area of soft wood (Ensolit) to dimin-
ish sounds in the room / dark ceiling colours / light wall colours / threshold and foot
boards of rubber profile.878 The drawing showcased the key features of the design solu-
tion: the curving threshold and skirting board, the window and black-out blinds, radiator
pipes underneath the desk, the colour scheme for the ceiling, the airing mechanism of the
window, the possibility for patients to enjoy the view outside, soft and hard walls, the beds
and the ceiling radiator. The architect refered to the sanatorium as a collective apartment
building in the diagram annotations, which indicated that he was inspired by the new
paradigm in housing architecture in designing the sanatorium. The impact of the radiator
heater on a reclining patient was illustrated in a separate diagram.879

250
Fig. 3.5.4f. The darker tone of the ceiling probably varied from one room to the next as did
the corridor wall colour on different floors. Colour plan by Eino Kauria. Photographer Mikko
Hietaharju. Photo No. av 78. Photo has been edited. AAM.
Artist Eino Kauria served as the supervisor of painting work of Paimio Sanato-
rium from June 1932 onwards.880 The Alvar Aalto Museum drawing archive holds
a gouache painting by Kauria presenting the colour scheme for Paimio Sanatorium.
Based on his painting, the darker tone of the ceiling varied from one room or floor
to the next as did the corridor wall colour on different floors.881 Nils-Gustav Hahl
has also described the interior palette of the sanatorium in a 1933 article in Domus
magazine: the lobby had a fresh yellow colour on the floor, the iron window frames
were red and the pipes were painted in different colours according to their function,
which in his opinion added a decorative aspect to the design.882 The patient room had
few pipes other than heating pipes in view.
880 Building Board June 14, 1932, Section 12. PSA.

881 Prior to Paimio Sanatorium, architect Eino Forsman had used bright colours in the Tarinaharju Sanatorium in
Siilinjärvi, completed in 1931. Heikinheimo et al., Ark-byroo architects 2014, p. 36 and p. 111.
882 Hahl 1933, pp. 63–67.
251
Aalto’s office drew up several designs for internal doors. Detail drawings show a
round-shaped threshold rising from the floor, metal plate covered frames and a variety
of treatments on wood door panels. Seven door plans were marked as standards.883
The patient room doors were wooden flush panel doors, with the corridor-facing panel
varnished and the room-facing one painted.884 The metal plate covered doorframe was
manufactured by Crichton-Vulcan, 885 and the door leaves were ordered from Wilhelm
Schaumans Fanerfabrik factory.886 The piece of metal painted in different colours on
either side strung on a piece of wire was hanging on the corridor-facing side of the
patient rooms. This was used by the patients to communicate whether they were in their
room or not. The rooms had no name plates. It is not known to whom this completely
manual mechanism can be attributed. The handles in the patient room doors were
specially made and designed by the architect.887 They were supplied by Turku-based
Kaune Takomo (Kaune Artistic Blacksmithing), which advertised them as their own
standard-type handle.888
Architects sketched several drawings studying the joint of the S-shaped floor and
the wall. The Building Committee decided that the skirting board should be made of
rubber.889 In a photograph from the Aalto archives, the skirting boards are coved but
wooden.890 The patient room floor was clad with linoleum, an important detail for
Aalto. He wanted to ensure that the floor material would be linoleum and therefore
bring forward the material purchase to autumn 1931.891 The Building Committee
decided to purchase 2.2 millimetre thich linoleum for the floor covering in December
1931892, well in time before the materials for other floors were decided on.893 One of
the patient room walls was covered with soft Enso pulp-paper wallpaper to even out
the internal acoustics of the room. The advertisement of Enso-Gutzeit Ltd illustrated
the structure of the acoustic wall panel: a fibreboard attached to the wall, clad with thick
Enso wallpaper.894 This advertisement was created at Aalto’s office and illustrated with
photographs taken by Aino Marsio-Aalto.
883 Drawings Nos. 50-159, 50-160, 50-161, 50-162, 50-163, 50-166 and 50-390. AAM.
884 Research on colour layers, card No. 6. Heikinheimo et al., Ark-byroo architects, 2000.
886 Building Committee November 4, 1931, Section 3. PSA.
887 Drawing No. 50-956 presents a handle, which is more simple than the one that was manufactured.
888 An advertisement of the Kaune company. Sukkinen, M. et al. eds. 1933, p. 70.
889 Building Committee March 21, 1932, Section 6. PSA.
890 Exhibition plate No. 50-400. AAM.
891 Aalto proposed to the Building Committee that the linoleum be ordered in good time because the price might
increase as the exchange rate of foreign currencies could rise. However, the Committee did not press for a desi-
cion because in its view it was not possible to say how the exchange rates would develop. Building Committee
November 4, 1931, Section 2. PSA.
892 Building Committee December 23, 1931, Section 2. PSA.
893 In March 1932 the Building Committee decided that coloured linoleum of 3.5 millimetres thickness would be used
in the corridors. In toilets and other spaces, rubber sheets of the thickness of 3 millimetres would be used. The
rubber flooring material was ordered from Nokia and the linoleum from Oy Wiklund Ab, located in Turku. Building
Committee March 5, 1932, Section 2. PSA.
894 An advertisement of Enso Gutzeit Ltd. Sukkinen, M. et al. eds. 1933, p. 65.
252
PATIENT ROOM DOOR
Fig. 3.5.4g. Detail of a standard drawing with sheet metal door frame and undulating threshold. The
door panel does not correspond to the reality. Drawing No. 50-162. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.5.4h. The patient room door handle was designed by Aalto’s office. Photo No. 50-003-352. AAM.
253
TECHNOLOGICAL SYSTEMS OF THE PATIENT ROOM
Fig. 3.5.4i. The drawing is a study of the integration of the intermediate floor building technical
systems. Drawing No. 50-198. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
Fig. 3.5.4j. The drawing shows the connection of the ceiling and the floor to the walls. Aalto used coved
corners for easier cleaning. Drawing No. 50-346. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
254
Fig. 3.5.4k. The risers were contained in
the wall between the patient room and
the corridor, and their service hatches
opened into the corridor. Servicing
therefore did not require entering the
patient room. Photo No. 50-003-153.
AAM.
Fig. 3.5.4l. The architect’s diagram

shows how the ceiling radiator emitted
heat evenly to the reclining patient.
Drawing No. 50-405. The drawing has
been edited. AAM.
255
TECHNOLOGICAL SYSTEMS OF THE PATIENT ROOM
Fig. 3.5.4m. The detail shows the joint of the ceiling surface and the window wall. It also shows the
decoratively profiled edge of the ceiling radiator, acknowledged by Mateo Closa. A covering board was
attached in front of the window to hide two heating pipes. The covering board also enclosed curtain rails
in case curtains should one day be fitted. One end of the covering board reached the wall while the other
end was rounded. The narrow gap between the heating pipes and the ceiling were planned to be filled.
The drawings also show a diagram of the paint boarders on the ceiling. The drawing is dated February 11,
1932 and it has Lauri Sipilä’s initials. Drawing No. 50-284. The drawing has been edited. AAM.
256
3 . 5 . 5 T H E I N T E G R AT E D D E S I G N O F T H E
Aalto conceptualised the two-bed patient room as a “minimum apartment”. The room
was small in size, making space-saving design solutions necessary. Aalto multiplied
the available space by way of adding details of his own design, and by approaching
the compact dwelling as a holistic problem. To approach the design problem from the
perspective of a minimum apartment was justified by a number of factors: the serial
production – the patient room was not a singular space. Instead, it was repeated 120
times in an identical form; space-saving, which resulted in meticulous scaling and plac-
ing the radiator on the ceiling; multiplying the space through added functional features,
with the bedside table and night lamp as good examples; and emphasising individual
patients’ privacy in a twin room by various acoustic means. Aalto had addressed the
importance of acknowledging patients’ psychological and physiological needs as the
basis for design in a talk he gave in Oslo in 1931.895 The architect meticulously studied
each individual solution for the patient room. This was the method he had called for in his
critique on the Stockholm Exhibition.896 When the project was nearing completion, he
drew numerous diagrams analysing the functions of the space. His paradigm and work
method was also in line with current international discourse.
As the person responsible for the purchasing of patient room furnishings, Aalto’s
role in securing the overall furnishing design of the patient room was decisive. He
divided the purchases into four categories: fixtures designed by the architectural office,
freestanding furniture designed by the architectural office, standard furniture, and chairs,
which were also standard. By “standard furniture”, Aalto referred to serially produced
furniture generally available on the market.
Aalto had already for some time collaborated with Otto Korhonen and his company,
Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas (Furniture and Building Work Factory), developing
their standard collection. In this way, Aalto could with good reason propose the pur-
chase of furniture designed by himself, although it had not been specified in the design
contract as part of the architect’s remit. Separate quotations were requested for all
furnishings. Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas and August Louhen Rautasänkytehdas
(August Louhi Iron Bed Factory) submitted quotations later than the other compet-
itors, and without exception, their prices were slightly lower than those proposed by
the others. This seemed like a conscious tactic. Aalto disclosed to his collaboration
partners the price level that would secure them the contract. Aalto excused himself
from the decision-making regarding the bed and bedside table-drawer unit because
he was the designer. However, he did not excuse himself from the purchasing decision
regarding the wardrobe, although he had designed the standard model for Huonekalu-
ja Rakennustyötehdas.
895 Anon, 1931, p. 6.

896 Aalto 1930d. pp. 119–120.
257
Aalto’s strategy was to introduce products of his own design into serial production
and general markets. Looking after his own interests meant that he would also look after
the interests of his partners. In the competitive tendering for the furnishing contracts
for Paimio Sanatorium, the competitors were not placed on an even playing field. Aalto
made sure, however, that the lowest price was the decisive factor. His task was to persuade
the decision-makers by demonstrating the high quality of the furniture with the models
delivered to the sanatorium and to convince them that the requirements for both the
lowest price and highest quality were met by the companies favoured by Aalto and that
this was also in the best interest of the sanatorium. It is clear that Aalto’s actions would
have raised criticism amongst the Building Board. What is also clear, however, is that they
chose to turn a blind eye, as the Building Board stood to benefit from the lower prices.
The relationship between the architect, developer, the material supplier and provider as
well as his peers was regulated in the ethical guidelines, or Norms of Honour, of the
Finnish Association of Architects, which emphasised the role of the architect as a neutral
mediating party. According to the ethical guidelines, the architect may be reimbursed by
the client only: “Accepting any conceivable compensation in any form from the executor
of work, material supplier or provider is dishonest and dishonourable.”897 In this light,
Aalto’s actions were testing the boundaries of professional ethics.
PATIENT ROOM FURNISHINGS

BUILT-IN FURNITURE
LOOSE FURNITURE
LOOSE FURNITURE
MANUFACTURER
designed by architect
purchased standard
purchased standard
FURNITURE
CHAIR
wardrobes X Oy Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas Ab
table X Oy Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas Ab
bedside table
and cupboard X Oy Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas Ab
bed X Aug. Louhen Rautasänkytehdas
chair X Oy Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas Ab
Table 3.5.5a Patient room furnishings.
897 Suomen Arkkitehtiliitto (Finnish Association of Architects), 1937b, p. 382.
258
The hospital furniture acquisitions were based on model pieces, as especially evi-
dent in the case of the wardrobe purchase. From the perspective of design philosophy,
the evolution of the patient room wardrobe from a metal sheet cabinet through a
rectangular plywood cabinet with a separate frame into a fully opening wardrobe,
in which the material formed its supporting frame, is an interesting process. The
material, the structure and the use of space changed through the different stages of
design. The wardrobe changed from a static piece into a mobile one. The product
development progressed between February and September 1932, in collaboration
with the manufacturer and the designer, before and after the offer had been formally
accepted. A similar use of nesting and combining two functions is exhibited in the
two-piece combination of the bedside table and drawer unit. The bed design grew
simpler during the design process and it did not have mobile features. The patient
room chair, originally made of bent plywood with a tubular steel frame, became a
timber structured one. The reason for this alteration was probably the price.
The light fittings were a topical design task, as electricity was used to an increasing
degree and the quality of light bulbs improved.898 Helge Kjäldman had introduced
three principles of overhead lighting in a 1927 issue of Arkkitehti (The Finnish Archi-
tectural Journal): direct, semi-diffuse and diffuse, which were similar to the principles
discussed by Gispen in his article of the following year in the Deutscher Werkbund
publication, Innenräume (Interiors), a volume that Aalto had in his library.899 Norvasuo
has argued that Poul Henningsen related to Aalto the method in which analytical and
empirical approaches converged and were utilised in creating the form of a light fit-
ting.900 Bauhaus, in contrast, was interested in lamps as sculptural objects.901 Norvasuo
has also maintained that the overhead lighting in the Paimio patient room represented
the view that gained popularity among architects in the 1930s, according to which
light-coloured ceilings or walls could be used instead of reflecting surfaces incorporated
in the lamp. According to Norvasuo, Aalto’s patient room lighting design appeared to
be a compromise, in which technically appropriate lighting and an experientially satis-
factory environment have been brought together.902 What is significant is that Aalto’s
lighting design developed in parallel with its execution. Initially, the reflecting surface
was part of the light fitting instead of a light-coloured area on the ceiling. The design
of the lamp probably changed owing to cost pressures, and was altered in collaboration
with Taito’s designer and factory owner Paavo Tynell.
Besides rays of light, like Henningsen, Aalto also studied the reflection of sound.
Furthermore, it would seem that a calm acoustic environment was a more important
factor than the lighting in the sanatorium environment. This would be the rationale
898 Norvasuo 2009, p. 33.

899 See Kjäldman 1927, pp. 37–41; Gispen 1928, pp. 147–152; Norvasuo 2009, p. 37.
900 Norvasuo 2009, pp. 53–54.
901 Banham 1984 [1969], pp. 129–130 and pp. 36–137.
902 Norvasuo 2009, p. 79.
259
behind the splash-free noiseless washbasin, the use of Enso’s fibreboard and pulp-paper
wallpaper in the patient room walls and Aalto’s drawing illustrating the behaviour of
sound in the patient room corridor published in the Byggmästaren (The Master Builder)
journal. In this image, the corner of the patient room has been presented as rounded.
Aalto was interested in developing panel radiators, as indicated by his contact with
the Wärtsilä Corporation at the same time as the Building Board was debating whether
ceiling radiators should as a rule be used. The profile of the Rayard standard radiators used
in the ceiling of the patient room allowed for the connecting pipes to run inside the radia-
tor.903 The Spanish architect Mateo Closa has perceptively pointed out that the technical
features of the ceiling radiator were hidden beneath a decorative shell, and considered this
a characteristic of older architecture.904 Closa was not, however, familiar with the story of
how the ceiling radiators became part of the design. In reality, Aalto would have had no
opportunity to influence the design of the radiators, even if he had wanted to.
Owing to the small-size, holistically designed furniture and integrated technical
systems, the twin patient room of Paimio Sanatorium is based on a similar ideology
to the small apartments in German housing estates at the time. The centrality of the
patient room for Aalto becomes evident in the sheer number of drawings related to
it. Aalto standardised the patient room with the objective of introducing the furniture
designed for the room into serial production. He succeeded in integrating technical
systems into his own design as advised by medical experts as well as sub-contractors
and manufacturers. The essential values informing the design of the patient room were
preventing the spread of disease and providing a quiet environment, fresh air, good
heating and eye-friendly lighting. Paimio Sanatorium can be interpreted as a collective,
where each resident is reserved a private space, albeit small, and the a great deal of
consideration is given to facilitating shared activities and practicality.
According to Adams, hospitals in the United States and Canada aspired towards
impeccable cleanliness, with priority given to the design of hygienic surfaces, medical
applications, and financially and ideologically motivated solutions. She argued that, in
the case of interwar-period hospitals, it was difficult to differentiate whether a certain
solution stems from an attempt to create and maintain an image of cleanliness or to
prevent the transmission of diseases.905 She maintained that, in addition to the count-
less cleaning devices, there were numerous design details for fitting doors, windows,
wall foundations, medicine cabinets, lavatories and even ventilators seamlessly onto the
wall surface.906 Similarly at Paimio, the profile of the patient room floor in front of the
903 Contract No. 4 of Vesijohtoliike Onninen (Plumbing Company Onninen), July 9, 1931. Documents related to the
904 Closa writes: “Por el contrario, el radiador que se sitúa en el techo de las habitaciones de enfermos y en el
comedor, que pertenece al sistema tecnológico del edificio, oculta la visión de todo mecanismo con la intención
de pasar a integrarse inadvertidamente en la arquitectura de la habitación. La estrategia de ocultación de lo
mecánico coincide, en este caso, con la referencia retórica a la ornamentación tradicional. Dentro de este con-
texto algunos detalles del interior del edificio muestran formas de carácter histórico construidas con un material
moderno.” Closa 1991, pp. 92–93.
905 Adams 2008, p. 126.
906 Adams 2008, p. 126.
260
window was informed by the hygienic considerations pointed out by medical advisors.
The coved ceiling joint and rounded skirting board create an impression of a hygienic
room. The lavatories in the Paimio Sanatorium lobby still have coved corners, which
were probably also used in patient rooms as well. The washbasin pipes were placed in
a separate riser within the wall and their rounded, clean shape would appear to be free
of nooks and crannies in which dirt could build up. The wardrobes were not recessed
into the wall, and their rounded profile gave the impression of a continuing wall surface.
When taking a closer look at the patient room, the entity comes across as a most
harmonious one: all furnishings were the outcome of holistic thinking, and the tech-
nological solutions were implemented with great economy of space while optimising
their functionality. However, this harmonious image tells nothing of the process that
preceded the end result.907 It might appear that Aalto was commissioned to create the
interior design for the patient room, including all its parts. As the present study shows,
this was not the case. The furnishings were divided into four categories, only some of
which were part of the design remit of Aalto’s office. From the Building Board’s per-
spective, it was not a question of commissioning an artistically coherent whole. Aalto as
a designer was, however, keen to realise the patient room according to his own visions,
including the tiniest of details. This required a great deal of effort from the architect, or
the innovator. By manoeuvring the purchasing processes through various trials he was
able to translate the view of the Building Board to support his own intentions by always
invoking the lowest price. He exercised a great deal of power within the project. As the
person responsible for composing the acquisition programme, he knew the rules, and,
as a representative of the client organisation, it was part of his role to invite tenders. In
addition to this position and the resources of his architectural office, he also formed part
of many local collaborative networks, which had taken shape in the course of previous
projects. Therefore, the manufacturing of the model wardrobes for the patient room at
Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas (Furniture and Building Work Factory) was com-
pleted in record time. Aalto showed great creativity in exploiting his social and material
resources. He had managed to bring into existence a strong, viable hybrid made up of
social and material actants, existing only for the purpose of the project. The way Aalto
developed his standards, mostly for the patient room, can be seen as a method similar
to Latour’s laboratory, where a question is isolated from the surrounding reality and
resolved in a laboratory or on a drawing board, and then introduced to the wider world
or taken into industrial production908
907 Latour and Yaneva 2008, pp. 80–89.

908 Latour 1999 [1982], pp. 141–170, especially p 167.
261
3.6 A MASSIVE INFRASTRUCTURE
PROJECT BROUGHT INTO A
PRISTINE LANDSCAPE
F
or the purposes of this dissertation, infrastructure was referred to as installation
technology. This technology is of interest as town planning was a highly topical
theme at the time. Furthermore, Paimio Sanatorium was built in a rural area
and as a modern institution helped to bridge the gap between the city and the country-
side. It was, however, designed for patients with a serious illness, so it was understood
appropriate among the medical experts to locate it in an isolated environment. Various
large technological systems, which compose the essence of modern technology,909 such
as the national electricity grid, developed in leaps and bounds in the inter-war period.
3 . 6 .1 T H E C H A L L E N G E S I N I M P L E M E N T I N G
WAT E R , S E WAG E A N D H E AT I N G S Y S T E M S
The Building Board requested tenders for the water, drainage and heating piping con-
tracts in spring 1930. The candidates were required to present a design solution as part of
their tender. The tenders proved incommensurable so it was impossible to reach a deci-
sion based on them. Following the unsuccessful round of tendering, the Building Board
commissioned the water, drainage and heating piping plan from Radiator, one of the
companies that had submitted a tender.910 Radiator was owned by Arthur E. Nikander
(1881–1953), who was one of the first building engineers in Finland to run a construction
firm. His firm Radiator was among the most significant ones at the time.911 The new
round of tendering took place based on the plan devised by Radiator together with Aalto
in early 1931. Tenders were requested from five companies, three of which submitted
a tender. Huber, which was one of the leading Finnish companies in its field and the
one who had won the contract for the Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building, failed to
submit a tender in either round. It is also noteworthy that in this contract, which was
substantial in value, the tenders were not addressed to Alvar Aalto, who was in charge of
the contracting as the highest-ranking expert on the project.912 The Building Committee
909 Hughes 1989, pp. 184–248.

910 Building Committee August 16, 1930, Section 5. PSA; Building Board August 21, 1930, Section 4. PSA.
911 Arthur E. Nikander (1881–1953) finished his M.A. (in technology) at Helsinki Polytechnical Institute in 1910. During
his studies he had been a trainee in the U.S.A. At the beginning of his career he worked at the municipal building
inspection of the City of Helsinki 1910–1919, after which he established a construction company, which became
one of the largest in Finland at the time. Arthur E. Nikander, one of the first builders with a solid background in
technology in Finland, was an all-round businessman. His water pipe company Ab Radiator Oy, based in Helsinki,
operated in other parts of the contry, including Turku. Construction companies, such as Ab Radiator Oy, bid also
for cost calculations and site management in addition to planning and contracting. Hellsten 2011.
912 Bids were requested form five companies, out of which four had an office in Turku: Keskusosuusliike Hankkija,
Ab Radiator Oy, Ab Vesijohtoliike Huber Oy, Vesijohtoliike Onninen Oy, and the Helsinki based Oy Johto. The bids
were to be sent to the secretary of the Building Board Ilmo Kalkas by February 15, 1931, in a sealed envelope.
Building Committee January 25, 1931, Section 1. PSA.
262
Fig. 3.6a. The biological wastewater
treatment plant was built in 1932.
Photo No. 50-003-518. AAM.
263
HEATING SYSTEM
Fig. 3.6.1a. The image shows the hot-water Fig. 3.6.1b. The picture shows the rapidly heating
radiators that were mounted on the ceiling, and steam radiator pipes and the exhaust ventilation.
the hot-water radiator in the corridor which was The steam heating system was located under the
mounted on the wall without leaving a gap. The fixed desk. Detail of the drawing No. 102-10 of the
pipe routes are marked in the drawing. Detail contractor, Vesijohtoliike Onninen. PSA.
of the drawing No. 102-7 of the contractor,
Vesijohtoliike Onninen. PSA.
264
Fig. 3.6.1c. Aalto’s standard drawing of a wall-mounted radiator. It would appear that the
radiator design was never finished by the architect because he failed to attach to his team
the contractor he had wanted to work with. Drawing No. 50-202. The drawing has been
edited. AAM.
requested Voima- ja polttoainetaloudellinen yhdistys (The Energy and Fuel Economy

Association) to evaluate the tenders, and as a result, Vesijohtoliike Onninen’s (Plumbing
Company Onninen) tender was evaluated as the lowest in price, although it required fur-
ther information. Aalto and Raita were appointed to carry out the contract negotiations.913
While the contract negotiations were ongoing, the Building Committee initiated
further investigations on radiator heaters.914 It viewed the radiators915 at Vesi ja Lämpö
(Water and Heat) corporation’s office in Helsinki and discussed the use of the new
type of radiators with the Director General of the State Medical Board and Senior
Medical Officer Edward Horelli, who took a positive view on the alternative.916 The
Building Committee proposed the use of radiator heaters in the patient rooms and
dining hall to the Building Committee.917 The matter was introduced by Aalto, who
commended the radiators’ smooth surface for being easy to clean. Aalto also pointed
out that, owing to their radiation qualities, they created no draught or circulation of
dust in the indoor air, as normal radiators would. Furthermore, the temperature of the
patient room could be adjusted to a couple of degrees lower than with conventional
radiators, as radiator heaters emit more heat into solid objects than the surrounding
913 Onninen had offered less equipment in its tender than had been the requirement, for which reason further nego-
tiations had to be organised. Building Committee March 16, 1931, Section 1. PSA.
915 Lämpö ja Voima Oy had contracted the water, sewage and heating pipes of the Pohja insurance company, com-
pleted in the same year. Their recessed, plain sheet radiators had been used under the window in the Pohja
Insurance Building. Kallio 1930, p. 124.
265
air. According to Aalto, the radiator heaters where therefore an economic alternative
for a tuberculosis sanatorium, where rooms were frequently aired. He also referred to
the positive opinion of the State Medical Board. A long debate on the matter ensued918,
after which the Building Board decided to vote between two alternatives. According
to the first proposal, three patient rooms on each floor would be installed with Rayard
radiators in addition to conventional radiators. According to the second proposal, all
patient rooms would be fitted with Rayard radiators and the contractor would set up a
security note at the bank as a guarantee that the radiators would function as efficiently
as conventional radiators and that the heating fuel costs would not be higher than with
conventional radiators. As an additional condition for the second proposal, the Building
Board required that the State Medical Board did not oppose the use of Rayard radi-
ators. The latter proposal won by a narrow margin.919 Aalto’s objective in the contract
negotiations was to engage the designer of the radiator concept to also win the contract.
Using the ceiling-mounted radiator heaters was, after all, an idea that originated from
Radiator. Aalto attempted to exclude other competitors by demanding that ceiling
radiators be used. The tactic was not successful, as other plumbing companies were also
relying on the same technology and were prepared to give the necessary guarantees. As
a result of the round of negotiations, Vesijohtoliike Onninen’s tender proved slightly
less expensive than that of Radiator. The third tender was considerably more expensive
than the other two.920 Aalto was in favour of selecting Radiator as the contractor and
suggested that contract negotiations be started with the company. Aalto’s opinion was
influenced by design collaboration with Radiator, during which questions and solutions
relating to water, drainage and heating pipes had taken shape. Aalto had benefited from
a number of new ideas from Radiator, which were particularly valuable for the designer.
The Building Committee decided to give the contract to Vesijohtoliike Onninen, 921
918 Mayor Ranta took a sceptical view on the radiator heaters on account of the quality of the sanatorium and the
lack of user experience with the radiator type. He was supported by Saarinen, Thomander and Pyysalo. Ranta
considered it possible, however, that the smaller number of Rayard radiators as mentioned in the work specifica-
tion would be implemented. Farmer Rantasalo suggested that the discussion be continued with the companies
supplying radiators to agree on lower prices and that radiator heaters could be introduced at least partially. Bank
manager Saarinen suggested that the State Medical Board be asked for a statement on the matter. Master builder
Thomander, in turn, opposed requesting such a statement, but said that one could be invited, should the State
Medical Board be prepared to provide one. In his opinion, Rayard radiators could be tried with a small number
of radiatiors. Farm owner Raita seconded inviting a statement from the State Medical Board, but was skeptical
whether such a statement would be obtained. Aalto suggested that the decision depended on the recommenda-
tion of the State Medical Board hospital unit. Farmer Pilppula predicted the Building Board vote would result in a
tie, so he suggested that if the notes of securities at the bank as discussed were obtained and the State Medical
Board were in favour of the Rayard radiators, they should be used in the patient rooms but not in any other rooms.
According to Mayor Ranta, the Building Board had to make a decision on the matter. He proposed that the deci-
sion be left on the table, if the Building Board was not prepared to make a decision on the matter. Master builder
Thomander seconded this opinion. Farm owner Raita believed that the matter should be decided without further
delay. Building Board April 1, 1931, Section 2. PSA.
919 The Building Board voted evenly five against four. Building Board April 1, 1931, Section 2. PSA.
920 The bid of Vesijohtoliike Onninen was finally FIM 3,111,000, the bid of Radiator FIM 3,150,000 and the bid of Kes-
kusosuusliike Hankkija FIM 3,350,000. A sum FIM 15,000 was to be paid to Radiator for its design work, in case
it was not selected. The sum had to be added to the bids of Onninen and Hankkija for comparison. PSA. Building
Committee April 7, 1931, Section 1. PSA.
921 Medical adviser Sukkinen considered the bids of Radiator and Onninen equal, whereas the farmers Raita and
Pilppula considered Onninen’s bid better. PSA. Building Committee April 7, 1931, Section 1. PSA.
266
Fig. 3.6.1d. The disinfecting oven. Photo No. 50-003-407. AAM.
a decision on which Aalto left a dissenting opinion in the minutes.922 Thus Aalto failed
to form the collaborative team, a strong hybrid with an ability to act, he had aspired to.
On the other hand he got a permission to use the ceiling radiators he, together with
Raditior, had visioned. The handover inspection for the heating, water, hot water and
steaming equipment was carried out in two stages in spring 1933.923 The water piping
contract supervision was conducted by the Voima- ja polttoainetaloudellinen yhdistys
(Energy and Fuel Economy Association)924, with Albin Hieta-aro as the supervisor.925
Although the State Medical Board granted permission to use radiator heaters in
patient rooms, the responsibility for the feasibility of the system rested with the fed-
eration of municipalities, 926 who in turn transferred the duty to the contractor. At the
922 Building Committee April 1, 1931, Section 1. PSA; Building Committee April 7, 1931, Section 1. PSA.
923 The handover inspection was attended by technician and inspector Oksanen of the State Medical Board, foreman
Hieta-aro and engineer Rindell representing the Building Board, engineer Onninen and foreman Pietilä represent-
ing Vesijohtoliike Onninen, Mr Kempe representing Pietarsaaren Konepaja Oy (Pietarsaari Machine Workshop)
and engineer Väänänen representing Metalliteos Oy. In addition, engineers Rosenqvist and Witikainen from the
Energy and Fuel Economy Association served as invited independent advisors. The report of the Energy and Fuel
Economy Association on the handover inspection held on February 10–11, 1933, dated February 17, 1933. Docu-
ments related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM; The report of the Energy and Fuel Economy Association
on the handover inspection held on March 6–7, 1933, dated March 10, 1933. Documents related to the Paimio
Sanatorium project. AAM.
926 When the Building Board asked the State Medical Board for permission to use Rayard radiator heaters in the
patient rooms, the State Medical Board replied that if the new radiator system were prove unviable, it would need
to be replaced and in that case the federation of municipalities would have to carry the cost without any state
support. Record No. 1382. State Medical Board 1931 Ea:34. NA.
267
early stages of the work, Aalto familiarised himself more thoroughly on radiator heater
markets, and learnt that the radiators could be obtained at a considerably lower price
from another manufacturer in Sweden.927 Aalto exchanged the Rayard radiators in
the entrance lobby, the sundeck corridor, the dining hall and offices for Swedish-made
panel radiators.928 It was also decided to use panel radiators in ward corridors.929 When
discussing this alternative, the company Onninen pointed out that air should be able to
flow freely on both sides of the panel, in other words, behind the panel as well. If the
radiators were mounted onto walls, the back panel should be insulated, reducing the
effective heat-emitting surface and creating a need for a larger number of radiators to
be installed. However, the radiators were mounted onto walls without insulation.930 In
patient room ceilings, Rayard radiators were used. Their profile allowed for the connect-
ing pipes to run within the structure.931 In August 1931, Onninen approached Aalto to
discuss the practicalities regarding the installation of radiators in B building, as Aalto
had requested that the radiators be mounted further away from the wall, which required
longer and thereby more expensive brackets.932
The installation of the three water traps of the patient room washbasins and spit-
toon within the wall between the room and the corridor proved problematic. In June
1931, the contractor reported to Aalto that installing three water traps in the riser was
impossible owing to lack of space, and that they would be obliged to use one joint water
trap for all three drains.933 In December 1931, the contractor placed another offer on
the alteration work on all drainage for patient rooms, which was required by the new
installation method for the spittoons and washbasins.934
The wastewater treatment plant was not part of the main contract. In October 1930,
the Building Board asked engineer R. Granqvist’s opinion on whether an ordinary
septic tank would suffice for the sanatorium’s sewage system or whether additional
equipment was necessary.935 The Building Committee commissioned engineer Gran-
qvist to design a biological treatment plant in March 1931, and the Building Board
927 On May 5, 1931, Aalto reported to the Building Committee having discovered that the Stockholm-based Luth &
Roséns Elektriska Ab would be able to supply the radiator heaters for the sanatorium for FIM 130,000 less than
the existing quote, for which reason the Building Committee requested a new offer from Vesijohtoliike Onninen.
Building Committee May 5, 1931, Section 7. PSA.
928 Vesijohtoliike Onninen Oy, May 15, 1931. Contract No. 1. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
930 In the advertisement of the Luth & Rosén company it said that the radiators of the patient wing corridors were
without a rear that needs to be cleaned, they were space saving and hygienic. Sukkinen, M. et al. eds. 1933, p. 53.
931 The radiators were ordered based on the National catalogue Nos. 21 and 23. Vesijohtoliike Onninen Oy, contract
No. 4, July 9, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
932 A letter from Vesijohtoliike Onninen to the Building Board, August 14, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio
933 A letter from Vesijohtoliike Onninen to the Building Board, August 26, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio
934 The work included the cutting and adjustments of 24 pipe lines so that the new interceptor trap of the spitting
bowl could be installed by adding a T-pipe. The number of interceptor traps was increased by 162 and the amount
of T-pipes by 173. The cost of the additional work was FIM 29,400. Vesijohtoliike Onninen’s bid to the Building
Board, December 14, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
935 Building Committee October 25, 1930, Section 5. PSA.
268
Fig. 3.6.1e. View of the boiler room
of the heating plant in the D wing.
Photographer Gustaf Welin, 1933.
Photo No. 50-003-404. Photograph
has been cropped. AAM.
269
subsequently decided to build one based on Granqvist’s proposal.936 Aalto was clearly
unconvinced about the solution, as he asked as late as August 1931 for a statement from
the Voima- ja polttoainetaloudellinen yhdistys (Energy and Fuel Economy Associa-
tion) on the type of water treatment system that would best serve the sanatorium. Only
this statement provided a clear analysis of the problem and its solution.
According to the statement, popular dual cesspits were outdated. They were only able to
separate the majority of solid waste, but at the same time contaminated the water flowing
through the tank, as decomposition processes always take place in the tank. Although the
tanks had developed in previous years, they were only feasible for small quantities of water
and there was not sufficient empirical evidence of their use. The City of Turku had septic
tanks in use, in which only the waste water from lavatories was treated. Waste water from
sinks, washbasins, bathrooms and laundry rooms was not treated and bypassed the treat-
ment unit via a separate system. All buildings in Turku that had flushing lavatories had
two separate wastewater systems: one for the lavatories and one for all other wastewater.937
Since the sanatorium’s sewage water system and flushing lavatories were largely com-
pleted, with the waste water from lavatories and washbasins directed to the same system,
introducing the septic tank system was difficult at this stage of a project. The treatment
plant would have needed to be rescaled and it would have become very large and expen-
sive to build. Voima- ja polttoainetaloudellinen yhdistys maintained in its report that
both the cesspit and septic tank systems were unsuitable for Paimio Sanatorium. The
only remaining option was the biological treatment plant, which was originally developed
for treating large quantities of waste water, such as those from entire town districts and
cities. Based on the positive experiences gained, the system had been used in hospitals,
sanatoria and army barracks. It was further stated in the report that the water flowing
through the biological treatment plant was adequately purified for release into an open
ditch without adverse environmental impact, as had been the plan for Paimio Sanatorium.
Moreover, the waste water from lavatories could be directed through the same pipes
as other waste water, and the biological treatment plant would process all waste water.
Voima- ja polttoainetaloudellinen yhdistys therefore recommended the use of a biological
wastewater treatment system.938 The selected supplier was Yleinen Insinööritoimisto Oy
(General Engineering Office), which delivered the Danish-made biological treatment
system including machinery, and carried out the installation.939
Since the project group had been unable to take into account the operating principles
of and spatial requirements for wastewater treatment at a sufficiently early stage, the project
group was left with no alternative solution. The expertise of the City of Turku waterworks
did not benefit the decision-making on the wastewater system for Paimio Sanatorium,
despite the fact that the City had been involved in the project with a one-third holding

937 The letter and statement of the Voima- ja Polttoainetaloudellinen yhdistys, September 3, 1931. Documents related
to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
938 Ibidem.
939 Building Committee October 24, 1932, Section 1. PSA.
270
Fig. 3.6.1f. View of the heating system controls. The incoming and outgoing heating pipes
at the heating plant were different in colour. Photographer Gustaf Welin, 1933. Photo No.
50-003-411. AAM.
271
since 1930. The water pipe system, including the well, the pumps and water storage tank,
had already been completed and the pipeline leading from the pump house to the main
building laid before the main construction project began. The work had been carried out by
Vesijohtoliike Onninen940, which in other words was to continue work on the site.
The company Radiator drew up water, sewer and heating equipment specifications
between August and October 1931. A separate ventilation design was not provided. The
water, hot water and drain pipes for the sanatorium main building, the Junior Physicians’
and the Administrative Director’s building, the workers’ apartment building as well as the
garage formed a joint system, while the Medical Director’s house had a separate system.
Similarly, all other buildings apart from the Medical Director’s house were heated by the
heating plant located on hospital grounds, while the Medical Director’s house had its own
heating station. The work was to be carried out in compliance with regulations adopted by
the City of Turku for similar projects, unless otherwise agreed.941
In terms of the installation work, the work specifications required that the water and
drain pipes be placed within accessible shafts, or covered by a wall in a few places, or freely
in front of a wall. As a rule, the specifications stated that the design and construction of
the pipe system should aim at minimising noise.942 Rain water was directed from the roof
via a downpipe to the basement, where it flowed into the main sewer via water traps. Cold
water pipes ran within the building. The building was equipped with fire hydrants. Film
rooms were equipped with three automatic heat-sensitive sprinklers.943
The general heating system selected for the sanatorium was a central heating pump
system.944 The work specification drew special attention to reducing the noise of the
two circulation pumps to a minimum. Steam heating was used as a secondary system
for areas where heating was necessary even in the summer, when the main system was
out of service. Steam was also required for water boilers and various machines and
equipment, such as the mangle, soup kettles, washing machines, disinfection equipment
and sterilisation stations. In August 1931, the Building Board decided to order furnace
940 Building Committee September 15, 1930, Section 1. PSA.

941 Specification of the water, sewage and heating systems, pp. 2 and 6. Specifications, cost calculations and
contracts. PSA.
942 All joints in any piping placed within risers had to be accessible through service hatches. In rooms, mainly in
buildings A and B, where all piping ran hidden and the walls had hard surfaces, each visible pipe section had to
be chromed. Ibidem, pp. 2–3.
943 Ibidem, p. 4.
944 The central boiler station was fitted with two 2,000 litre boilers that could heat water to 70 degrees centigrade
in one hour. Hotwater pipes were made of drawn copper pipe. The piping was equipped with supply and return
pipes and electrical centrifugal pumps. Water circulation was optimised so that only one litre of cooled-down
water at most needed to be run to obtain hot water, regardless of the outlet. To achieve even circulation, each
riser and group was equipped with an electrical valve and each pipeline, including the main and supply and return
pipes, were installed with a stop valve. The hot water pipes were insulated. The expansion U-bends were placed
at 12 metre intervals at a maximum. Ibidem, pp. 5–6.
272
grates for the steam boilers that would allow the burning of wood as an alternative
fuel.945 The boiler room was located in a separate building.946
Two centrifugal pumps were used in the heating pipes to generate circulation,
both alone sufficient for the entire institution. They were to be noiseless and they were
placed in a separate room.947
As per the plan, 1,750 square metres of water and 29 square metres of steam radi-
ators, 631 square meters of water and 24 square metres of steam radiators, and 274
square metres of water and 22 square metres of steam radiators were installed in the
sanatorium building, the central building and the service building, respectively.948

946 The boilers were cast-iron boilers enclosed in brickwork. Each had 100 square metres of heating surface. In
addition, the boiler room housed two steam boilers, with six atmospheres of operating pressure and 50 square
metres of heating surface each. The steam distributor and the pressure relief valve were housed in the boiler
centre. The centre also housed a steam water tank. Specifications of the water, sewage and heating systems, p. 7.
Specifications, cost calculations and contracts. PSA.
947 The pumps were equipped with stop valves and their joint inlet and pressure tube with thermo metres and pres-
sure gauges. The pumps were powered by directly coupled electric motors. In case of potential power failures,
one centrifugal pump was directly coupled with a combustion engine, with capacity for similar quantity of water
as the electrical pumps. The pumps were housed in a pump room, where a marble control panel was also located.
The control panel included thermometres showing water temperature in supply and return pipes, the electric for
the resistors for the electric motors, switches, a recording ammeter and fuses as well as pressure gauges for
the different pipes. The plant was divided into groups with stop valves, with one main group for each building.
Each vertical pipeline was equipped with a stop valve and drain cock. The expansion pipes were based on a
double-tube system. The expansion-tank was placed at the highest possible point in the attic in a heat-insulated
shelter, which prevented the water in the tank from freezing. The pipe system was bled through the bleed valve
in the radiators. Ibidem, pp. 7–9.
948 Each patient room in the south wing of A building was installed with Rayard radiator heaters in the ceiling, to-
gether with the necessary insulation. The dining hall and certain places in the offices were also designed to have
Rayard radiators. The entrance lobby would be installed with steel panel radiators, Simplex models under the
windows and additionally Värtsilä’s steel panel radiators on the wall. The corridors would be fitted with Simplex
radiators and the staircases with Värtsilä steel panel radiators. The lavatories and bathrooms would be heated
with four-inch radiator pipes running from the ceiling to the floor. The sundeck corridor would be fitted with Sim-
plex radiators as well as steam radiators on the opposite wall for drying out clothes warn on the sundeck. For the
same purpose similar steam radiators would be installed at the end of the corridor on each floor. Steam radiators
would also be installed in the ground-floor bathroom for summertime heating and the washroom on the same
floor, to dry out urine bottles. In the B wing, the most common type were Värtsilä’s steel panel radiators, while the
sauna was fitted with cast-iron “Siro” radiators and the operating theatre with Hospital radiators underneath the
windows as well as steam radiators on the interior wall, which also served as summertime heaters. The dining hall
and workshop were fitted with Rayard radiators on the ceiling. The lounge was fitted with low cast-iron radiators
underneath the windows. The dining hall was fitted with additional steam radiators in between windows to heat
the air, as the cavity between the windows was designed for plants. In the C wing, the most common type was
Simplex radiator, while the laundry was fitted with cast-iron Siro radiators. Ibidem, pp. 9–11.
273
The heating requirements of the rooms were calculated based on design specifications,
with certain exceptions. When the outdoor temperature reached -30°C, the required
room temperature varied between +10°C and +40°C. Ventilation was adjusted according
to design specifications and it was required to work at full capacity when the outdoor
temperature was between -10°C and +5°C.
BUILDING ROOM TEMPERATURE
patient rooms, ward nurses’ rooms, entrance lobby,

A corridors and lavatories
+ 20°C
A disinfecting facilities, storage rooms and sundeck corridor + 10°C
A bathrooms +25°C
B operating theatres and phototherapy rooms +30°C
B bathing facilities, radiology and dressing rooms +24°C
B transformer room and basement storage + 10°C
B in other rooms +20°C
C cellar and bakery +10°C
C dough proofing room +40°C
C kitchen, mangling room and laundry room +15°C
C bathrooms +25°C
C other rooms +18°C
Table 3.6.1a. The required room temperatures when the outdoor temperature reached -30 °C.
Specifications of the water, sewage and heating systems. PSA.
Despite the fact that the indoor temperatures and ventilation rates were
designed separately for each room by type of space, it is not clear from the specifi-
cations how these design values were to be reached. For example, the architectural
and structural designs did not take into account the heat insulation capacity of the
structures. The design values for indoor temperature and ventilation were not dealt
with in the designs in any systematic manner by analysing the combined impact of
the systems and spatial entities.
Aalto was also interested in developing a panel radiator model. He contacted Ab
Wärtsilä Oy, a shipyard and a mechanical workshop in Helsinki, in June 1931 and
suggested a completely new panel radiator model. The company showed interest and
274
were keen to know when Aalto would be able to deliver a proposal.949 The architectural
drawings include design of a wall-mounted panel radiator, stamped as a standard, showing
a recessed version and one mounted on top of the wall surface.950 In November 1931, Aalto
received a letter from Willy Malmström company from Denmark, representing a company
named Brøderne Dahl (Brothers Dahl), which supplied the wall-mounted panel radiators
and the Rayard radiators for the sanatorium. The letter was enclosed with English-language
illustrated materials on the operating principle of Rayard radiators.951 The idea of using radi-
ator heaters in Paimio Sanatorium emerged at a time when Radiator was drawing up the
water, sewage and heating piping specifications in collaboration with Aalto. In the patient
room diagrams dated prior to this, ceiling-mounted radiators did not appear.
The natural ventilation system was possibly paired with a mechanical exhaust
system. Strikingly, no separate ventilation plan was designed, and it was dealt with in
the specifications in conjunction with the heating system.
BUILDING ROOM AIR CHANGE RATE / h
A patient rooms 50 m3 per patient
A bathrooms, washrooms and disinfection rooms 3 x volume of the room
A toilet facilities 5 x volume of the room
B dining hall, lounge and sewing room 2 x volume of the room
C kitchen 15 x volume of the room
C laundry 8 x volume of the room
C laundry mangle and dish-washing room 5 x volume of the room
other rooms 1 x volume of the room
Table 3.6.1b. The air change rate calibration. Specifications of the water, sewage and
heating systems. PSA.
949 Wärtsilä’s letter, signed by Wilhelm Wahlfors, to Alvar Aalto, June 27, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sana-
torium project. AAM.
950 Drawing No. 50–202, which is dated October 16, 1931. AAM.
951 The letter of Brøderne Dahl signed by Willy Malmström to Alvar Aalto, November 14, 1931. Documents related to
the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
275
3.6.2 OWN POWER PLANT OR ELECTRICITY
FROM A LOCAL PROVIDER?
Finnish domestic electricity production increased seven-fold between 1920 and 1938,
which was the fastest rate after the Soviet Union in interwar Europe. Although by
1936 Finland had surpassed such industrialised countries as France, Germany and the
UK in electricity production, the share of private consumption remained relatively
low, as the electrification rate of private households was slow. The institutions served
as models for households and housing architecture.The electrification in the country
centred around Southern Finland.952
The Building Committee asked Aatto Edwin Suopanki953, the operation engineer
of Koskivoima corporation’s Turku substation, as an expert to evaluate the tenders
placed on the electricity installations. 954 Following the contract negotiations in June
1931, Keskusosuusliike Hankkija (Central Co-operative Hankkija) was selected as
the contractor, although its price quotation had not been the lowest.955 Suopanki
was appointed the supervisor of the electrical installations.956
The Building Committee embarked simultaneously on negotiations with the
power company Lounais-Suomen Sähkö (Southwestern Finland Electricity) on
supplying electricity for the sanatorium.957 The Building Committee had decided
that the electricity supplied to the sanatorium would be measured by high-voltage
transmission. It attempted to negotiate a lower tariff from the electricity supplier and
although it managed to agree a lower electricity rate for the duration of construc-
tion,958 agreement on the tariff was not reached. Next, the Committee considered
whether establishing a separate own power plant for the sanatorium would be a more
cost-effective solution than purchasing electricity from an external provider. Suopanki
explained to the Building Board the problem of meeting the power and electricity
needs of the sanatorium and presented the letters received from Keskusosuusliike
Hankkija and Lounais-Suomen Sähkö.959
952 Myllyntaus 1991, pp. 79-98.

953 Aatto Edvin Suopanki was born in Kemi in 1900 and graduated as an engineer from the Finnish Industrial School
department of electrical engineering in 1924. Prior to the sanatorium project, he had made a study trip to Sweden,
and during the project also paid a visit to England and Scotland in 1932. He began his career in the sawmill indus-
try and from 1926 onwards worked as an inspection engineer, engineer and foreman on a number of sites for the
state-owned Koskivoima corporation. In 1929 he became the operating engineer for the Turku substation, where
he served until 1933. Suopanki lectured in electrical engineering at Turku Industrial School in the early 1930s.
Talvitie 1936, p. 270.
958 Lounais-Suomen Sähkö made an offer for a power and lighting tariff of FIM 600/kWh based on the average of
four highest peak periods of 30 minutes added with the consumption charge FIM 0.50/kWh measured on the
high-voltage side of the transformer. The Committee attempted to negotiate the consumption charge to FIM 0.45/
kWh but the power company representative claimed not to have authority to decide on the matter. The Building
Board suggested that electricity, lighting and power during construction work would be reduced close to FIM 1.00,
to which the representative did agree. Building Committee September 29, 1931, Section 1. PSA.
276
Fig. 3.6.2a. View of the transmission room. Photo No. 50-003-405. AAM.
Hankkija’s report stated that establishing a separate power plant for the sanatorium
would require the acquisition of larger boilers and if the sanatorium relied completely
on its own power station with no reserve capacity purchased from outside, two boilers
and generators would be necessary. Hankkija did not discuss the profitability of a sep-
arate power plant to any degree, as there was not enough information to back up such
calculations.960 At this stage, Lounais-Suomen Sähkö reduced its offer to the level
suggested by the Building Board961, and the Building Board accepted the tariffs.962 An
agreement was reached at the end of 1931.963 The sanatorium substation and part of the
network were powered on in January 1933.964 Aalto did not actively participate in the
discussion on the electricity contract or the method of electricity production.
Established in 1912, Lounais-Suomen Sähkö was a leading operator in the region,
but its competitive situation changed radically in 1929, when a State-owned power
station was completed in Koroinen and the company lost its biggest client, the City
of Turku. Many customers asked the company in 1930 to scrap its basic charge and
960 The letter of Keskusosuusliike Hankkija to engineer Kilpi, October 16, 1931. Attachment A. Building Board October
17, 1931, Section 9. PSA.
961 In case of a long term contract, the electric company would insist on having a paragraph that would allow it to take
into account the currency fluctuation. Attachment B. Lounais-Suomen Sähkö’s letter to the Building Board, dated
October 17, 1931. Building Board October 17, 1931, Section 9. PSA.
963 Building Committee December 23, 1931, Section 1. PSA.
277
to reduce its consumption-based rates on the grounds of the difficult economic sit-
uation.965 It would appear that Suopanki, the supervisor of the electrical installation
at Paimio Sanatorium, who worked for a competing company, was well aware of the
plight that Lounais-Suomen Sähkö had found itself in and could use the situation to
the advantage of the sanatorium.
Unlike the other installations in the hospital, the electricity contractors drew up
electrical drawings as part of the tender, based on the acquisition plan.966 The plan
drawings presented building-specific light fittings, sockets and risers. The acquisition
plan included some 40 motors, 1,586 light fittings and 650 sockets in the different
buildings. Since the ventilation plan had not yet been completed, the necessary mechan-
ical exhausts were excluded from the plan.967
A substation was built for the sanatorium where the high-voltage three phase
current was reduced to low-voltage 320/220V current.968 Lighting and power lines
were arranged on the low-voltage side into separate networks. Underground cables
to buildings A, B, C and the boiler room arrived at the distribution centres housed in
the basement, which were connected to lighting and power lines in the basement and
the risers. Each floor had its own distribution panels connected with final branches so
that the light bulbs on one side were divided between at least a couple of risers, which
originated in two different supply cables in the basement. To serve the patient rooms,
25 channels were reserved for the light fitting risers. Each patient room had two sockets,
one wall lamp, one double wall lamp and two rotation switches. By each patient room,
in a shaft accessible from the corridor, a distribution panel was installed.969
The light fittings were purchased by the developer, except for the outdoor lights,
which were included in the acquisition programme. The main entrance road to the
hospital was lined with 19 lamp posts, with eight all-night and 11 half-night street
lights. According to the acquisition programme, the street lights were mounted on
conventional timber posts.970 The lights were, however manufactured according to the
architect’s design and they had a stem made of metal tube and concrete.971
The loss of current in the lighting cables between the substation control panel and any
given light fitting was not allowed to exceed five percent. The permitted loss of current
in the underground supply cables was only half of this. These were requirements that the
contractor was to observe when measuring the cables. Since the hospital was located on
a remote site and the electricity supply depended on a five-kilometre long high-voltage
965 Haikala 1987, pp. 18–20.

966 The acquisition plan was probably devised by Suopanki. The acquisition programme for the power current instal-
lation work at the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium
project. AAM.
967 Ibidem, pp. 1–4.
968 Ibidem, pp. 4–5.
969 Ibidem, passim.
970 Ibidem, p. 12.
278
Fig. 3.6.2b. The lift shaft enclosed by glass walls at
the other end of A wing. Photo No. 50-003-505. AAM.
line, the question of reserve capacity was crucial. The reserve capacity was designed for the
lighting and power supply and the sanatorium was installed with an auxiliary generator.972
The sanatorium was equipped with a number of devices required in treatment and
administration. These purchases were to be approved by the State Medical Board. The
Building Board authorised Heikkilä, Pilppula, Aalto and Sukkinen to negotiate with
the officials and the complete the purchases of devices and machinery.973
Aalto had already studied the internal communications in the sanatorium at the com-
petition stage. In a block hospital, lifts were crucial. Different users had their designated
lifts: the large lifts were for patients and for hospital bed transfers, all sputum was carried
in a separate lift, while goods were delivered in their own lift and the staff used the staff
lift. There was also another lift for catering and personnel. The work specifications refer
only briefly to the lifts: they were to be manufactured by Kone or Schindler and all
lift shafts were to be made of glass and steel.974 The lifts formed a separate purchasing
item.975 The Building Committee ordered the lifts from Turun Insinööritoimisto Oy
(Turku Engineering Office), who made them under Schindler Lift licence.976 Its offer
972 Ibidem, pp. 12–13.

974 Aalto (1930)a, p. 23.
975 An agenda, which is attached to the minutes. Building Board March 15, 1930, Section 9. PSA.
976 An advertisement of Turun Insinööritoimisto Oy. Sukkinen, M. et al. eds., 1933, p. 57.
279
was the lowest.977 The competitor, Kone Oy, Finnish elevator company, took exception
to the decision to order the lifts from abroad and appealed to the Building Board: “We
suspect that no other Finnish company – since only two machinery types are applicable
judging by the high model costs – is able to deliver similar large lift machinery at a
price lower than ours.”978 Kone also emphasised the obligation of the sanatorium project
management to favour local and national suppliers, to no avail.
The architect’s office designed versions of the lift cages, lift doors and one motor
room.979 In a letter from Aalto’s office to the lift cage manufacturer, it is stated that the
cage walls were to be smooth and no frame and mirror structure was to be used. The
walls were to be clad with a protective nickel panel up to the height of 30 centimetres.
The catering lift was equipped with sliding shelves, with the depth half that of the lift,
so that there was room for one person to stand in the lift.980 However, the architects
made a new proposal on the combined catering and personnel lift, with an integrated
catering cabinet in a three-person lift. The doors of the cabinet could be opened down-
wards to serve as a worktop, as illustrated by the drawing sent by the architect to the
manufacturer.981 The letter was probably attached with a drawing showing a lift cage
with a catering cabinet placed at a suitable height.982 The two lift cages of A lift were
the most impressive. The inner corners were rounded, the sidewalls had mirrors and,
above the mirrors, a backlit translucent glass. The lift floor coverings were made of rub-
ber. The drawing was created by “H.H.”983 The main lifts were sized to fit a hospital bed.
The lift contract was carried out presumably without major problems, except
towards the end. The electricity contractor had not scaled sufficient risers for the large
motor rooms, which reduced the power of the lifts by 15–17 percent. As a result, Turun
Insinööritoimisto waived all responsibility for any loss of current.984 In April 1933, the
main lifts in staircase A broke down and could not be used during repair.985
The low current devices in the sanatorium, including a signalling system, a tele-
phone system, paging system and radio, were covered by a separate acquisition plan.986
977 The final price came to FIM 441,700. According to the terms of payment, FIM 100,000 would be paid upon signing
the contract, another FIM 100,000 in the following February, if the work was half-way through and the rest upon
the completion and sign-off of the work. Building Committee May 30, 1931, Section 2. PSA.
978 A letter from Kone to the Building Board, June 9, 1931. PSA.
979 Drawing No. 50-337 shows six lifts: two lifts for 15 persons in staircase A, a goods lift, a sputum lift, a catering
and personnel lift for three persons, and a lift for three persons in staircase B. The drawings are made by Erling
Bjertnæs and are dated October 28, 1930. Drawing No. 50-348 was a lift cage drawing made by Lars Wiklund
dated January 20, 1931, showing six cages. AAM.
980 A copy of the letter from Aalto to the manufacturer of the cabins of the elevators to Turun Insinööritoimisto, April
981 A copy of the letter from Aalto to the manufacturer of the cabins of the elevators to Turun Insinööritoimisto, May
984 A letter from Turun Insinööritoimisto to Alvar Aalto, February 11, 1933. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatori-
um project. AAM.
986 Acquisition plan for low current devices and equipment. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
280
It was drawn up by the Insinööritoimisto Limo engineers987, who also supplied the light
signalling and paging systems.988 All patient rooms, lavatories and sundeck doors were
equipped with signalling equipment. Each patient bed was equipped with a call button.
The call buttons in bathrooms were equipped with a chain or a string. The lavatories
and sundecks had call buttons embedded in the wall. The patient could call a nurse by
pushing a call button, which lit up lights above the door to the room, in the nurse’s
room and in a designated spot in the corridor. The nurse’s room would also sound a
buzzer, which had to be manually turned off.989
All telephones in the sanatorium could be used for external calls. The incoming
phone calls were received at the switchboard. The switchboard and automatic switch-
board were built for 100 numbers on three incoming phone lines. The incoming lines
were equipped with a call diverter to transfer calls at night time to certain numbers.990
Personnel pagers were used to reach certain staff members within the hospital,
in case they could not be reached by telephone. The switchboard had three numbers
reserved as emergency numbers. When the switchboard attendant noticed that a par-
ticular person was not available in his or her room, she would select the emergency
number for that person, and a designated lamp would light up in the corridors and
rooms where the person was most likely to be available. After this, the paged person
would dial a certain number on the nearest telephone and would be automatically put
through to the external line, where the call was waiting. For the Head Nurse, each
room was also equipped with a socket, to which she could insert a small portable
buzzer to alert of any incoming calls.991
The sanatorium also had a central clock system. Each patient in A building had
a bedside radio with an ear-piece. Four rooms were equipped with electromagnetic
loudspeakers. The radio receiver included a three or four-tube receiver and a connected
output amplifier that had to be compatible with the ear-piece, electromagnetic speaker
or electrodynamic speaker in larger spaces. Each radio and output amplifier also had to
be compatible with a record player or microphone. The main building was also fitted
with an emergency lighting system, which would switch on automatically if the general
overhead lighting were to break down.992
The architect designed the phone booth for patient use. He placed the clock on the
façade in the recessed roof terrace, where it was hardly visible. The placing of the clock
appeared half-hearted and not well considered. The architect showed no interest in the
electronic signalling equipment or other low current devices.
987 A letter from Insinööritoimisto Limo to Alvar Aalto, January 7, 1931. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium
project. AAM.
989 Acquisition plan for low current devices and equipment. Documents related to the Paimio Sanatorium project. AAM.
990 Ibidem.
991 Ibidem.
992 Ibidem.
281
3 . 6 . 3 D I S T R I C T I N F R AS T R U C T U R E WAS A
MAJOR ARCHITECTURAL CHALLENGE
The building design and construction preceded a number of fundamental decisions

made on district systems, including sewage and electricity. When the time to make
these decisions came, real alternatives did not exist. The requirements of district sys-
tems were not observed in the early stages of the building project regardless of the
background organisations of the Building Board, including the Turku city officials,
who had a wealth of technological expertise. Neither the principal designer nor any
other stakeholder ever demanded that the installation systems be designed concur-
rently with architectural design.
From the perspective of today’s building design, it appears unfathomable that the
water, sewage and heating systems as well as the electrical installations were designed
only after the architectural design was complete. The knowledge and skills of different
specialists were not at the disposal of the architect until the construction had pro-
gressed to execution. The architect was assumed to be able to take the requirements of
installation technologies without interacting with specialists in the respective fields at a
time when heating, water and sewage technologies were still novelties in large, modern
institutions. The confidence in the architect’s competence was unwavering.
The work on water, sewage and heating systems was delayed by one year from the ini-
tial schedule. This was because the Building Board had initially requested offers without
a reference plan. As a result of the first contracting round, it firstly commissioned a plan
on the basis of which the second round of tendering could be held. The one-year delay in
the water, sewage and heating system contract had a direct impact on the overall schedule
of the project. Collaboration between the architect and Radiator, who designed the water,
sewage and heating systems was fruitful and productive. However, the contract itself
was given to another company, Vesijohtoliike Onninen (Plumbing Company Onninen),
which had been carrying out a smaller contract on the site and was therefore familiar with
the developer. Cooperation between Aalto and Onninen was not without its difficulties,
and resulted in excess billing in relation to many details, for example, the water traps of
the washbasins and spittoons in patient rooms. In June 1931, the contractor notified
Aalto that the water traps must be joined, as there was not enough space in the wall cavity
for them. In December of the same year, it transpired that the installation method of the
spittoons and washbasins would have to be altered again, so that the spittoons would have
a separate water trap, which incurred additional costs.
Aalto actively attempted to influence the choice of contractors on many occasions.
He succeeded in engaging a contractor for the construction of the concrete frame
with a quotation that was only fifth cheapest. When aiming to exert his influence in
the selection of the water, sewage and heating system contractor so that the contract
would have been awarded to Radiator, he chose a wrong tactic. Aalto emphasised the
importance of Rayard radiators, which contrary to his expectation did not deter other
candidates. Thus Aalto failed to form the collaborative team he had planned, he lost
282
the trial. It is apparent that the relations between Aalto and Radiator deteriorated as a
result of the decision, based of the tone of correspondence regarding billing. Aalto had
probably specifically contacted the owner and director of Radiator, Arthur E. Nikander,
who had contributed to the design by expending his know-how and had trusted in the
gentleman’s agreement with Aalto regarding the contract.
Aalto and a major Finnish plumbing company Huber had probably clashed in the
course of their earlier collaboration, the innovative installation systems at Turun Sanomat
Newspaper Building, as Huber elected not to submit a tender in either contracting rounds.
Huber would have been able to provide Aalto with the necessary expertise as early as 1930.
Another unusual detail is that no ventilation design was made at any stage, and
it simply emerged as part of the heating plan. The building was initially to be
installed with a central vacuum system, but this was never designed or realised.
Aalto requested quotations on low current devices but he had no interest as a
designer in these systems. In terms of electricity, his interest was limited to the
light fittings as functional design objects.
In the early 1930s, the depression and unemployment rates reached unprecedented
levels. The developer of the sanatorium was a federation of municipalities and since
local authorities were responsible for the livelihoods of the poor, the federation did its
utmost to favour the local workforce and local manufacturers. The next best option was
a Finnish-made product and only then an imported product. This principle marked all
contracting and purchasing processes. The only exception to favouring domestic pro-
duction were the lifts. Here, the Finnish manufacturer quoted a much higher price than
a foreign supplier of a product that was made under licence in Finland.
With regard to Paimio Sanatorium’s district systems, it is questionable whether
Aalto can be attributed with the role of an innovator. He invited no tenders for the
systems, and tenders were to be addressed directly to the secretary of the Building
Board. Aalto was not capable of steering the development of heating, water and sewage
systems to the degree that he would have liked, at least in terms of selecting contractors.
By then, he may have exhausted his social capital in connection with the contracting
negotiations for the reinforced concrete frame. When in Aalto’s opinion the “wrong”
water, sewage and heating piping contractor was selected, the architect seems to have
lost interest in developing this area any further. Even the electrical installations, such
as high and low-voltage systems, which were abstract in nature and which saw a rapid
improvement in the early 1900s, were not of special interest to him. The only excep-
tions to this are the light fittings and lifts. Although Aalto wrote in his 1932 article
“Bostadsfrågans geografi” (The Geography of the Housing Problem) about the division
of Europe into the town and the country, he had not really grasped the character and
potential of district systems. Perhaps he had not personally seen any real examples of
architectural treatment of infrastructural systems. Perhaps it was this lack of vision that
led him to abandon the role of an innovator in this instance. For example, in Paris, Le
Corbusier had shown great creativity in designing an electronically operated wall for
283
the Beistegui apartment’s roof garden993 and was proselytising for mechanical ventila-
tion systems that operated on electrical motors. No viable hybrids in the area of heating,
water, sewage or electrical systems emerged in the Paimio Sanatorium project. Collabo-
ration with Radiator, which had started auspiciously, was discontinued and the building
project lost one of its innovators. We shall never know what subsequent generations
missed, as some potential collaborations or Latourian hybrids could not develop. It is
not possible to know beforehand what technological processes might have produced,
any more than we know what kind of a process has preceded a completed building.994
993 Colomina 1998 [1994], pp. 301–306.

284
285
Fig. 4a By showcasing the Paimio Sanatorium kitchen through photographs and
diagrams of its ventilation systems, Aalto created an impression of being a pioneer
in institutional kitchens. Drawing No. 50-404, the drawing has been edited. AAM.
1 2 3 4
Conclusions
288
T
his study discussed the relationship between architecture and technology
at Paimio Sanatorium. My key research questions were ‘How did Aalto
manage to reconcile international ideology and local building culture in a
country where the degree of industrialisation in the building sector was relatively
low?’, ‘How did architectural Modernism appear in the technological solutions of
Paimio Sanatorium?’, and, further, ‘Could new technological systems be seen as part
of the tectonics of Paimio Sanatorium?’
The systems for heating, ventilation, sewage and electrical installations developed
rapidly in the early decades of the 20th century and the demand to implement them into
the overall architectural design became paramount. Who were those in this specific pro-
ject who knew how to implement these new systems and what were the critical points
to consider in developing solutions? Were the systems ready to be used as such, or did
they need further development? If so, did Alvar Aalto or the other project stakeholders
or actants contribute to their development? An additional objective of my research
was to find out which of the systems the architect overlooked as uninteresting, and to
examine what the reasons were for the architect to approach different systems from a
different architectural angle.
In Chapter 2, I have discussed Aalto’s influences and professional networks during
the construction of Paimio Sanatorium, based both on empirical evidence, such as
CIAM’s conference publications and Aalto’s own articles in different publications as
well as on prior research. I brought to the fore Aalto’s professional goals so that his point
of departure as the innovator in the Paimio Sanatorium project would be more trans-
parent. In Chapter 3, I have applied an anthropological method and been guided by my
empirical material to discuss the critical questions related to the technological solutions
and the different stages of their evolution in the building of Paimio Sanatorium. In this
present, fourth, Chapter, my aim is to mobilise the key concepts of the actor-network
theory, such as actant, hybrid, innovator, trial and translation, in relation to empirical
analysis. I have also used this line of discussion to some degree at the end of the previous
subchapters from 3.3 to 3.6.
289
4 .1 A A LT O ’ S C O N C E P T O F T E C H N O L O G Y
T
he general assumption underpinning the present research was that the architect’s
theory, his thinking, directs his actions. Aalto’s letters and literary output were
investigated to arrive at an understanding of what his concept of technology was
during the construction process of Paimio Sanatorium. His intellectual influences were
traced back to CIAM, because Aalto’s joining the organisation coincided with the initial
stages of the Paimio Sanatorium project. I argued that the ideas of CIAM’s central ideolo-
gists, Walter Gropius and Le Corbusier, inspired Aalto in his own thinking. I further stated
that Aalto drew influences from their culturally radical Modernistic discourse and applied
these ideas to his work. The research question led the author also to analyse how the main
ideologists of CIAM discussed technological themes in their own texts and how Aalto
reflected these ideas in his own writings between 1928 and 1933. Aalto’s texts were read in
juxtaposition with the international discourse. CIAM’s members were expected to actively
promote the new movement in their respective local spheres, a task that Aalto undertook
vigorously by penning articles, participating in exhibitions, and designing buildings.
I arrived at the conclusion that particularly Die Wohnung für das Existenzmini-
mum conference, held in Frankfurt am Main in October 1929, was a decisive source of
inspiration for Aalto. That was the first time he entered into personal dialogue with his
major European peers at a serious professional forum. Although the papers written for
CIAM conferences by its two leading ideologists, Le Corbusier and Walter Gropius,
were focused in this research, it is noteworthy that neither of these authors were present
at the event in 1929, which Aalto attended. Pierre Jeanneret and Sigfried Giedion deliv-
ered the papers on their behalf, which probably only added to their aura of authority. Le
Corbusier’s challenging ideas about observing the biological needs of human beings, a
new architectural attitude, the necessity of a thoroughgoing methodology when realising
minimum apartments and breaking down problems into parts, were adopted by Aalto.
These priorities were clearly expressed, for example, in Aalto’s article in Domus magazine,
in which Aalto introduced the discourse on the minimum apartment undertaken within
CIAM to his Finnish peers, and also in his critique on the Stockholm Exhibition. Walter
Gropius, in turn, appealed to Aalto’s sense of social responsibility and imagination. With
the cool detachment of a scientist Gropius stated, that the structural change in society
was more profound than the housing shortage prevalent at that time. Bringing to the fore
the social dimensions of modernisation, for example the social status of women, reso-
nated with Aalto. In my view, Aalto came to be aware of the new social order particularly
through the influence of Gropius.
While Gropius’ ideas were reflected in Aalto’s texts from the early 1930s, Aalto’s
discourse did not take place exclusively in the literary domain. Aalto’s discourse was also
about operating locally. In Paimio Sanatorium, the new social order of modernisation
found its architectural manifestation specifically in the patient room. Therefore, Aalto’s
creation was socially more radical than other hospitals built in the same period.The
architecture of the public institution served all tuberculosis patients, regardless of their
290
Chapter 4 | Conclusions
level of income. In Finland, where the public sector funded the sanatorium, the term
used for the subject was ‘patient’. In the United States, where private hospitals were
common, the term would have been ‘consumer’, in line with the Fordian ethos. Aalto
was conscious of the role of the user of healthcare services, the patient-consumer, and
placed this individual in his design focus. However, the rationalist theory or the mini-
mum apartment did not, as such, emphasise the individual experience.
The architecture of Paimio Sanatorium prioritised the experience of the patient and
mundane, but symbolic actions, such as hand washing. Hand washing was a symbolic ritual
that helped maintain good hygiene. Each patient had their own, large washbasin in the
small patient room. On the one hand, the arrangement protected the privacy and dignity
of the patient, and on the other hand, it also provided isolation to prevent bacteria from
spreading. The patient room was designed around the needs of the patient: they could look
out of the window while resting on the bed, the lighting was designed not to disturb the
patient, and the radiator installed on the ceiling emitted even, comfortable warmth. Aalto’s
architectural office team drew an extensive number of designs for the patient room, such
as the window, the washbasin, the spittoon and the metal frame of the door. Aalto treated
the patient room as a minimum apartment, which from the perspective of the discourse
was a highly relevant concept. He increased its functionality. Examples of this include
the bedside table that could be pivoted over the bed, a reading lamp that could be hung
above the bed or placed on the table, curvilinear wardrobes, splash-free washbasins and the
desk in front of the window, with a curving, heated floor underneath. Aalto repeated this
identical room 120 times throughout the building, but with his unconventional solutions,
he created a sense of individuality to enrich the everyday environment.
In the light of the present study it would appear that, in his design for the patient
room, Aalto was inspired particularly by the problematics of small dwellings. He applied
the new, radical ideas that had emerged in the field of housing construction, which he
became familiar with through CIAM at the time of the Paimio Sanatorium project, to
the design of the patient room. Naturally, the patient room also represented a key room
type in a specialist hospital, but here Aalto’s ambitions were not in any conflict with the
principles of high-standard care. If we take into account that the treatment was mainly
based on regular daily routines, good hygiene, rest, fresh air and nutritious meals, the
patient room had no highly specialised medical functions to fulfil. Therefore, the patient
room in the sanatorium, where patients spent seven months of their lives on average,
and the modernistic minimum dwelling were paradigmatically related. The similarity of
the two space types was manifest in the spatially economical, light-weight furniture, and
their manufacturer, Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas (Furniture and Building Work
Factory), did in fact market them to private, wealthy and highly educated customers. The
differences were evident in the washbasins and the glass spittoons which both received a
highly tectonic treatment. Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas marketed the patient room
wardrobe as a suitable choice for private homes and public buildings alike. 995
995 Huonekalu- ja Rakennustyötehdas (1932?) s.a.
291
The medical experts influenced the design solutions at the competition stage and
when the actual design work began by giving quite detailed instructions on how the archi-
tectural designs needed to be changed. However, Aalto took only some of these demands
on board, as he was able to argue in favour of his own opinions based on the very rationale
behind the doctors’ recommendations and translate their interests, as happened with the
case of the suspended intermediate floor in the dining hall. Medical experts seemed to
support Aalto at critical stages of the construction process, and Aalto in turn relied on
their expertise to sway the opinion of the Building Board. Time after time, Aalto man-
aged to persuade the State Medical Board to back his proposed solutions. Apparently,
the medical experts were impressed by Aalto’s competence. Their opinion of Aalto was
partly influenced by the fact that Jussi Paatela, Aalto’s colleague, was head of the building
department of the State Medical Board Hospital Unit from 1930 onwards. 996
A successful furnishing of the patient room, in the way the architect hoped, speaks
of Aalto’s ability to operate in a social context and to direct the other actors’ actions and
even, when necessary, to exceed the limits of his own role as an architect. Through these
trials, Aalto as the innovator succeeded in steering the process and translating the inter-
ests of the Building Board to persuade them to favour his ideas. The client reached its
goal, which was to save costs as much as possible, while achieving sufficient quality. For
the Building Board, this justified the means, so they gave Aalto considerable latitude
to manoeuvre, which enabled him to bring in, one contract at a time, his old business
partners to the hospital project as suppliers. In this way, Aalto in his role of innovator
created a highly viable hybrid in which know-how and collective experience came to
fruition. Aalto’s pursuits were both aesthetic and ethical. By appealing to aspects that
were considered important by the Building Board, he managed to push through his own
design goals. In other words, the furnishings in the patient room were not manufactured
because the Building Board considered them superior for their design but because they
met the quality criteria and were the least expensive option. Representatives of the state
supervisory body, the State Medical Board, found it easy to support Aalto’s solutions,
which were justified by medical factors. Their approach also confirms that, architecture
in Finland was seen as forming part of the treatment of tuberculosis and that the archi-
tect was highly aware of this and utilised this as leverage to achieve his own goals.
Based on my observations on Aalto’s media tactics, Aalto was highly aware of the
architectural press as a domain for creating meanings. Aalto’s article published on New
Year’s Day in 1928 in Uusi Aura (New Dawn) newspaper owed much to Le Corbusier,
particularly in the polemic choice of illustrations and their contrast with the copy. Soon,
however, Aalto’s articles took on a less agressive tone and he began to use foreign words
that gave the text a scientific air. In autumn 1932, Sven Markelius commented on Aalto’s
draft of the article “Bostadfrågans geografi” (The Geography of the Housing Problem)
suggesting that Aalto should use scientific-sounding vocabulary, but also to explain the
concepts, so that “profanum vulganus” would also understand what was being discussed.
996 Henttonen 2009, p. 343.
292
Markelius’ letter reveals how deeply aware the two authors were of the power of concepts,
and the defamiliarising effect of foreign words. Why, then, did Aalto end up using such
language in his texts? Finnish historian Timo Myllyntaus, who has studied the electrifi-
cation of Finland, has paid attention to the fact that the Finnish language has a word for
electricity, sähkö, that is not derived from Greek or Latin. He argues that being able to
use a Finnish-sounding word for the concept made it easier to spread electricity technol-
ogy.997 It would appear that Aalto and Markelius had no intention to communicate their
ideas about technology to the public, and instead they may have wished only to underline
their own expertise and distinction from the public. Through their actions, Aalto and
Markelius built and maintained their reputation as experts.
Aalto adopted various ideas and argued in favour of the economy of serial production in
the project descriptions published on the Turku Fair. If we pause for a moment to ponder
the verity of his claims, we will not be able ultimately to ascertain their truth. We only have
the architect’s view, with no deliberation. Serial production was, however, so powerful as a
proposal that it became true for the readers within the domain of the article. Latour’s theory
allowed for interpreting Aalto’s text as an attempt to translate the attitudes of the readers,
in this case Finnish architects, in favour of serial production. He again posited himself as
an expert of technology. In Latour’s terms, the question was about the translation of inter-
ests and the enrolment of the target group. Arkkitehti (The Finnish Architectural Journal)
magazine was for Aalto a channel, which strengthened his authority. The expert status that
Aalto had created for himself through social means gave him authority and helped him
translate the interests of other stakeholders, actants, in building projects.
Although Aalto used the concepts of rationalist management methods, he left his
inspirers unmentioned. Walter Gropius and Le Corbusier used similar tactics to legitimise
their own thinking through another discourse, the rational management methods. Aalto
did not explicitly refer to rationalist methods, but his thinking was clearly based on ration-
alist ideals. The reason why he did not directly mention, for example, Fordism, although
Ford cars and all cars in general were highly admired at the time, was probably down to his
reluctance to adhere to a single theory. An alternative analysis is that he operated intuitively
and could not consciously credit the sources of his ideas. The basic tenets of Taylorism
included the observation of how people performed their tasks and the identification of
the least expensive way to complete a certain stage of production. In a similar vein, Le
Corbusier emphasised the importance of observing human action inside the home, as a
biological phenomenon. For him, architecture was about human activity within a static
structure, a reinforced concrete frame. Aalto’s line of argument in his article on the min-
imum apartment, “Asuntomme probleemina” (The Dwelling as a Design Problem) fol-
lowed this model. For him, biological equalled dynamic, as it was the polar opposite of the
static, more precisely the static frame. In this conjunction, he used the phrase “biodynamic”.
This dichotomy reveals that Aalto understood architecture, and thereby construction, to
be simultaneously a social and material process, something that took place at the interface
997 Myllyntaus 1991, pp. 80–81.
293
between humans and objects. The fact that in his other article he considered the reinforced
concrete frame to be an inspiring design task 998 indicates that he also saw the load-bearing
structure as part of architecture, although in this particular instance he described the frame
as a static entity. In other words, the innovator-designer realised that the building was not
a static entity, although the end result may appear so, as Latour has stated.
I have also analysed the message in three articles Aalto wrote about Paimio San-
atorium, which were assembled by combining text, photographs and diagrams. The
aesthetic, perhaps even the ethical, hygiene of Paimio Sanatorium was eagerly embraced
in the architectural media from its early construction stages, when there were only dia-
grams of its interiors to show. As we know, the building later became canonised and the
hospital came to be held as a veritable model hospital as photographs of the interiors
were published after its completion, in the international architectural media. In the
construction phase, nowhere was it discussed, however, whether the environment was
genuinely better for curing patients than other tuberculosis sanatoriums.
The 1933 article by Nils Gustav Hahl, a business partner and spokesperson of Aalto,
published in Domus, was an accomplished piece presenting the interiors of Paimio
Sanatorium and showcasing the joy and the new vibrant outlook associated with Mod-
ernism. There was the theatrically lit forest as the backdrop to the large lounge windows,
the perky yellow of the lobby floor, the modern double-glazed windows with a space in
between for plants - usually never seen in care institutions - and the pipe systems, each
painted a different colour to give a touch of modern decorativeness to the space.999 As a
skilful writer, Hahl managed to create highly positive and strong impressions.
The presentation of the Paimio Sanatorium patient room windows in the press, and the
cultural meanings assigned to them, link them integrally with the international architectural
discourse. Wooden windows were the tradition in Finland and steel windows a novelty.
Aalto developed an unconventional window system for the patient room: the ventilation
window, known as the “health” window, only turned on its side, with two steel profiles nec-
essary to support its structure. This window system, though usually installed vertically, was
typical in Finland at that time. Turning the structure on its side gave the architect a reason
to talk about a “horizontal health window” and, by adding a couple of steel profiles, about a
“hybrid window”. Beatriz Colomina has drawn attention to the significance of Le Corbusi-
er’s gaze in architecture and to architecture as a tool for seeing. The vignette image in Aalto’s
competition proposal was an asymmetrical steel window with a section reaching down to
the floor. After a series of developments, he had to abandon both the asymmetrical shape
and the material. The medical experts had rejected the idea of a window reaching to the floor
as unhygienic, and steel windows had proved several times more expensive than wooden
windows. Aalto’s solutions were nonetheless a resounding rhetorical victory, as the horizon-
tal orientation was the feature that had been showcased both at the CIAM exhibition of
horizontal sliding windows in Zurich as well as in Le Corbusier’s theoretical deliberations.
998 Aalto 1928a, p. 11.

999 Hahl 1933.
294
As the example of the patient room window shows, Aalto succeeded in redefining
the cultural concept of the window, in this case, the horizontally oriented health win-
dow in a patient room. The architectural press was an ideal forum for devising such new
meanings. He faced trials in the realisation process, however, and his original idea as
the architect-innovator to have the windows made exclusively from steel profiles com-
pletely changed. Latour has voiced his concern that technological systems are explained
through social rationale. Latour claims that: “‘Society’ has to be composed, made up,
constructed, established, maintained and assembled. It is no longer to be taken as a hid-
den source of causality which could be mobilised so as to account for the existence and
stability of some other action or behaviour.” In his view, a social scientist has to explain
society “through the presence of many little things that are not social by nature, but
social in the sense that they are associated with one another”.1000 Various distinctions,
as in the case of windows - the definitions of the traditional wooden structure and the
modern structural hybrid - were material facts associated with, for example, different
production techniques. The window was associated with various social definitions that
had to do with health and the way of things are seen. To apply Latour’s idea: the window
of the patient room does not as such explain anything, but instead we have to explain
the “complex ecology” of the static-looking object.1001
Aalto used the media as a domain to publicise his analytical design method. The
best example from the period is perhaps his article for the Danish Kritisk Revy journal
(The Critical Journal) on the design of a cinema. The article features section diagrams
illustrating the reflection of sound waves. In his articles on Paimio Sanatorium, Aalto
also focused attention to rationalistic qualities in his diagrams, of which the section
drawing of the B wing is especially noteworthy, since this illustration was useful in suc-
cessfully persuading the medical experts on the decision-making bodies of the virtues
of its unusual ceiling construction. Aalto also used section drawings as a tool for the
sundeck wing, the tectonics of which evolved throughout the competition stage both as
a rational and artistic process during which he accumulated knowledge and the design
achieved its final shape, which was eventually very different from the initial designs.
It is also interesting to note that even when there already existed finalised structural
calculations determining the requirements of reinforcements, completed by a structural
designer, the architectural media published diagrams drawn by the architect based on
the drawings of the structural designer, presenting idealised models of the outcome.
Architectural media wanted to see one hero, one innovator-architect and closed its
eyes to the collective nature of the process. Aalto’s own actions endorsed the media’s
intention as he omitted to mention the structural designer in the project descriptions
of all his other projects from his period in Turku in Arkkitehti, except for the Paimio
Sanatorium project. Similarly, overlooking the state-of-the-art medical technology in
his descriptions of Paimio Sanatorium helped emphasise the role of architecture as the
1000 Latour 1999b, pp. 112–113.

1001 Latour and Yaneva 2008.
295
most important aspect of tuberculosis treatment. The Latourian innovator overshad-
owed the collective, on whose work his own achievements were based. At play are also
cultural rules and the renegotiation of power structures. There has been a tendency to
give credit for collective effort to strong (white, male?) individuals, which has thus acted
as a way to reinforce their position of strength in culture. In this respect, Aalto was no
different from Louis Pasteur, whose achievements Latour has analysed.1002
Aalto’s architectural focus was on non-medical technology. As an example, the hood
collecting grease vapours in the kitchen of Paimio Sanatorium was featured in the press
as early as 1932, in a diagram in an article for Byggmästaren (The Master Builder)
journal. Similarly, the well-appointed institutional kitchen had represented a location
for the application of Taylorist management principles in hospitals in Canada and the
United States, where meals were delivered on trolleys through tunnels and lifts and
were served from ward kitchens. Similar efficient principles were applied in the hospital
laundry.1003 The internal communications within Paimio Sanatorium and its kitchen
were well thought out from the very beginning. The minimum apartments in Frankfurt
had also emphasised the role of the kitchen as a well-equipped and well-designed unit.
By showcasing the Paimio Sanatorium kitchen through photographs and diagrams of
its ventilation system, Aalto created an impression of being a pioneer of institutional
kitchens as well as of increasing electrification in housing. Rafael Blomstedt’s com-
ments on Aalto’s kitchen appliances featured at the Minimum Apartment Exhibition in
Helsinki were praiseful, even if he regretted that the goods were imported from abroad,
which speaks volumes of how exceptional such modern comforts were in Finland. The
kitchen was one of the first units in the household to benefit from electrification. The
modern hospital kitchen served as a model for private homes in Finland, as electricity
consumption was still low compared to electricity production capacity.1004
In my view, Aalto’s electrical competence was selective. For example, he showed no
interest in electrical motors or new low current systems. Instead, light fittings, lifts and
kitchens, which were central to the rationalist discourse, were of great importance to him.
In his articles, he decided to focus on issues that the international discourse dealt with.
Aalto used his position in the media to prove that he was aware of the role of acoustics,
as shown in his diagram of the curving corner of the patient wing corridor in Bygg-
mästaren in 1932. Le Corbusier had acknowledged the necessity to abate noise in blocks
of flats and the need of residents for privacy in his paper delivered in Brussels in 1930.
In his article, Aalto showed his Swedish colleagues that he was aware of the issue and
through his diagram presented one, aesthetically rewarding, solution to the problem of
sound insulation. In loose connection, it is worth bearing in mind that Sven Markelius
was musically very talented and his design for the Helsingborg Concert Hall was about
to reach its completion in the autumn of the same year. It is therefore likely that Aalto’s
understanding of the importance of acoustics had also developed through his dialogue
1002 Latour 1988.

1003 Adams 2008, pp. 124–126.
1004 Myllyntaus 1991, pp. 96–97.
296
with Markelius. In reality, however, the patient wing corridor had never been intended to
be built as a curving space. The related drawing does not exist in the Alvar Aalto Museum
collection and it would appear that Aalto created it solely for the article in Byggmästaren.
For Aalto, the crux was in the idea of a curving wall, rather than its possible execution.
He wanted to demonstrate that he was up-to-date with the international discourse.1005
Gaining publicity for modern architecture was one of the key objectives of CIAM,
and its members were expected to engage actively in the task. Based on the early cor-
respondence between Giedion and Aalto, it would appear that the exchange of ideas
was one-sided, because Aalto, as well as his Nordic colleagues, assumed a passive role in
CIRPAC and did not offer to give talks at CIAM conferences. Furthermore, Giedion
had to coax Aalto into submitting an article to the Bauwelt journal, materials for the
horizontal strip window exhibition in Brussels, a paper on the sanatorium and reports
on the activities of the Finnish CIAM contingent. We can only speculate what the
reasons for Aalto’s evasiveness were: cultural and temperamental differences, a lack of
time, and a poor financial situation. In Aalto’s case, the question was most likely not due
to any lack of interest, commitment or ideas.
Aalto responded to the call by acting locally. Examining these few articles alone con-
firms that he was quite active in introducing the ideas raised within CIAM to the debate
within both his professional circles and the mainstream press in his home country. Engaging
with his professional circles took many forms: exhibitions, articles and talks. Collaboration
between Swedish and Finnish colleagues promoted the integration of international archi-
tectural ideology locally.1006 Generally speaking, Finnish professionals closely followed the
developments in Sweden. Aalto’s articles and the discussed exhibitions crystallised two of
CIAM’s key strategies: exerting influence and doing it through the media.
Annemarie Adams’ research shows that adaptability was an important principle in
North-American hospitals. Aalto was aware of this, and the idea was underlined in his
close collaborator Hahl’s 1933 article in Domus. However, he did not alter the dimension-
ing of the patient wing corridor as instructed by the medical experts to suit other purposes,
such as that of a general hospital. Similarly, the dispersed system of risers in the patient
wing proved immediately inflexible, even during the construction stage. The patient room,
in turn, was so small that furnishing it in any other way would have been challenging.
The frame of the building was no more adaptable, as the design solutions for each wing
had been differently tailored for different uses. It would appear that Aalto had not taken
the idea of adaptability very far. It is possible that he learnt to appreciate this aspect only
during the process of construction. Aalto attempted to use his articles to advertise his own
business and to position himself as an expert who adopted systematic working methods.
His idea was to appeal to an audience who shared his thinking and, through establishing
himself professionally, attain credibility as a leader of building projects.
1005 He adopted a similar tactic for the exhibition organised in conjunction with CIAM’s conference in Brussels, which
has been discussed in Section 2.7 “The Rational Site Planning”.
1006 Rudberg 1989a, p. 49.
297
4.2 THE LOCALITY OF CONSTRUCTION
E
ventually, my research question became: how did Aalto manage to reconcile
international ideology and local building culture in a country where the degree
of industrialisation in the building sector was relatively low? Many of Pamio
Sanatorium’s technological solutions that clearly had a bearing in overall expression,
such as the reinforced concrete frame, evolved during the period between the compe-
tition win in 1929 and the inauguration of the building in 1933. The process by which
the solutions evolved, particularly their critical points, was of particular interest for this
study. However, I am aware that an architectural idea may merely emerge without it ever
being realised as a physical construct and without any input from others.
My intention was to follow the process of construction and pay special attention to
the central role of the architect, the innovator of the building process. In line with Latour,
the technological process will either stand or fall with its innovator, who initiates action
and attempts to steer the technological process. I argued that the architect had to convince
other stakeholders of the viability of his solutions, and that the process of realisation, the
interaction with the other stakeholders, had an impact on his designs. I also argued that
the architect learnt from the process. I focused my attention specifically on the process
rather than the outcome, which, as we know, is a fabled masterpiece of modern archi-
tecture. My research question was: how did Aalto manage to steer the process so that it
enabled him to realise his architectural vision, and, furthermore, was the outcome entirely,
genuinely, in line with his vision? In the empirical discussion, I described the construction
of the concrete frame, the windows, the patient room and the installation technology.
From the perspective of architectural history, my research design was conventional,
as it was limited to the birth of the building with an emphasis on the architect himself.
What was new about my approach is the acknowledgement and analysis of the interaction
between the actors, including both the social and material ones. As has been shown in
previous research, modern hospitals were the result of bringing into play the influences of
many stakeholders, and the role of physicians’ discourse, in particular, has been stressed. The
input of other contributors, such as designers, contractors and building part manufacturers,
and the direct impact of the budget on the design solutions and the architect’s actions
during the construction stage have not been previously examined to the same degree. I
excluded the patients and the staff from my analysis because these two groups played no
active role in the design stage. In the Building Board, their views were represented by
doctors and architects to the best of their ability. However, I have explained the role of
the State Medical Board and discussed the direct participation of medical experts in the
building process. Emphasising certain angles, I have naturally also ruled out others. I have
introduced the organisation behind the building project and aimed to shed critical light on
the mutual contacts and collaborations of the builders participating in different projects.
The main task of the Building Board appointed by the participating local authorities
was to manage the building project. A major part of their attention was focused on
raising the funds and controlling the budget. Aalto’s role was to represent the highest
298
expertise in building. Representatives of the State Medical Board were consulted only
at the beginning of the project and at certain cirtical points later on. In addition, the
Building Board appointed a physician to serve a medical advisor for the duration of
the work. The influence of medical experts was limited to a number of special areas, in
which the Building Board was uncertain to pass decisions independently.
The reinforced concrete frame was developed in collaboration between designers.
The major role was played by a person who used the initials “H.H.”, who was either
Harald Wildhagen or Hugo Harmia; there is no certainty as to his identity. His drawings
showed the evolution of the final character of the reinforced concrete sundeck wing. The
reinforced concrete structure of Paimio Sanatorium as a whole is quite tectonic in nature
and scholars such as Banham have paid attention to the discontinuity of expression.1007
Aalto’s building frame is both structurally and aesthetically complex. For example, the
round load-bearing columns in the lobby of B wing form part of the wall, resulting in
undulating forms in the lobby walls, a structure that served the purpose of aesthetic hygiene.
On the other hand, the structure at the eastern end of B wing has been accentuated with
beams protruding from the building envelope and joined to rectangular pillars. Casting the
concrete frame in situ was also the biggest single sub-contract in the process, which the
Building Board elected to outsource. Aalto influenced the selection of the contractor in the
role of contract negotiator in order for Arvi Ahti, his close collaboration partner, to win the
contract in such an invasive manner that a legal advisor was required to resolve the matter.
The empirical investigation of the concrete frame also led me to pay attention to
traditional concepts of architectural theory, namely rationality and tectonics. Contem-
plating the power of expression in a structure as part of the poetics of architecture pro-
pelled me to ask: were not modern installation technologies similarly part of the tectonic
expression of architecture, if the architect approached them on a conscious level?
A detailed enquiry into certain processes produced a wealth of new information
about the main building and furnishings of Paimio Sanatorium. Furniture acquisitions
particularly revealed the architect’s tactics. He favoured the suppliers he had previ-
ously collaborated with. Aalto’s strategy to launch the patient room furniture into serial
production, was something that previous research had already suggested and further
confirmed by the present study. Aalto aimed to use standardised products for the hos-
pital purchases, and at the same time to design the very standards to be applied, such as
the washbasin in the patient room. Standardised products by other manufacturers were
available but they did not meet Aalto’s standards. His likely motive was to introduce his
own designs into serial production, and he found the existing serially produced wash-
basins aesthetically unsatisfactory. Aalto’s washbasin relied on basic aesthetic forms.
Arabia manufactured the special washbasins for the patient room, but presumably their
production costs were too high for the factory to be interested in their serial production.
The design contracts signed between Aalto and the Building Board did not guar-
antee that the interiors in general or even the patient room would be furnished with
1007 Banham 1957, p. 244; Porphyrios 1982, pp. 2–8.
299
pieces designed by Alvar Aalto and Aino Marsio-Aalto. The Building Board’s decision
to select them was not an aesthetic but an economic one. My study has produced new
information about Aalto’s professional strategies. The artistically accomplished designer
was not successful merely because of his superior sense of the aesthetic. He succeeded,
because he knew how to enact and realise his own strategy.
It is my understanding that Aalto and Otto Korhonen aimed to develop wooden fur-
niture because Korhonen was well-versed in the use of this material and his factory owned
the required machinery. In this case, the production technology available at Korhonen’s
factory, in other words, his previous investments, steered Aalto’s design towards the use
of wood. Assuming that Korhonen’s previous investments did steer the direction of the
technological process (in this case, towards using wood), this can be seen as an example of
monotechnics, a concept used by the American architectural scholar Lewis Mumford in
reference to characteristics typical of modern technological systems, such as the replacing
of manual skills by machines or the concentration of power.1008 Aalto and Korhonen’s
joint goal was to develop the wooden wardrobe for the patient room. A researcher is,
naturally, compelled to ask, why had Aalto and Korhonen begun their collaboration in
the first place? Did it begin because of Aalto’s initial fascination with wood? Or was this
collaboration the fruit of a realisation that by joining forces, each of the parties, designer,
marketeer and manufacturer, stood to gain? Aalto did also expend some effort during the
Paimio Sanatorium project on designing metal items, such as radiators and windows, so
his competence was by no means limited to one material. Another noteworthy point is
that, in the first sketches, the wardrobes were made of metal plate. In my opinion, the
metamorphosis of the patient room wardrobe and the rounds of competitive tendering
speak of Aalto and Korhonen’s rational attempt to develop a new wooden product. It was
not worth Aalto’s while to verbally justify the use of wood to the Building Board, since
using wood as a material for the wardrobes was not, as such, its goal. Emphasising the use
of wood would not have helped the innovator-architect to translate the opinion of the
Building Board. Instead, Aalto had to convince the Building Board of the high quality
of the wooden wardrobe, that it was just as credible a choice as the metal wardrobes
offered by competitors. He achieved this by having model wardrobes delivered on site.
Producing models took time. Aalto, who was in charge of the furniture purchases, also had
to convince the client of the lower price of the wooden wardrobes, which he could only
achieve by interfering with the tendering process outside the scope of his remit. Korho-
nen’s offer, which was only very slightly lower in price than that of the competitors, and
the sample wardrobe arrived on the site after the tenders had closed. The Building Board
accepted Aalto’s actions because, in this way, they could achieve their own goals. Relying
on Latour’s set of concepts in my interpretation, I find that Aalto succeeded in translating
the various conflicting goals of the Building Board, the furniture manufacturer to follow
his view, and arrived at a consensus by persuading the other stakeholders to rethink and
change their position to match his, through, in other words, Latourian trials.
1008 Mumford 1963 [1934], pp. 9–12; Rask 2000, pp. 94–95.
300
It was more natural for Aalto to treat the installation technology – the water, sewage,
heating, ventilation and electrical systems – on the scale of the patient room, rather than on
that of the entire building or district. Resolving the question of installation systems on the
scale of the building or the district created difficulties, mainly because it had been assumed
that the architect would be able to plan the building-level solutions on his own from the
very beginning of the design process, and without the input of experts or discussion of the
options to hand. In other words, the architect received no specialist support in this area
until a later stage of the process. There was no readiness to identify any alternative ways
of organising the installation systems until some of the decisions had already been made,
narrowing down the remaining options. The installation systems, as distinct systems, were
thus developed for the building as a whole without any architectonic treatment based on
collective interaction, except for a few isolated cases of collaboration.
Aalto had established in his competition proposal certain basic solutions, such as
the dispersed installation ducts in the patient wing, the separate building to house the
district heating plant and the heating plant chimney. As Aalto had never previously
designed anything on this scale or so demanding, some of the systems were, in terms of
their basic solution, quite unrefined. The architect’s skills were not sufficient to correctly
dimension the sewage systems or to create a feasible model for the wastewater treatment
system. Neither had he resolved whether the building would connect to the national
grid, which was only just being built at that time in Finland, nor whether the electricity
would be generated by the institution itself. Back-up systems, and making spatial res-
ervations for them, were also partially neglected in the design. I find it strange that the
cities involved in the project, and their public works authorities who had accumulated
considerable experience in technicalities such as sewage, were not concerned about the
lack of necessary expertise on the project from the very beginning. Besides funding
problems, it was precisely this lack of competence in the water, sewage, and heating pipe
and ventilation systems that delayed the completion of the project by one year. After
the architectural competition, the role of the medical experts became more prominent
as they were invited to give their opinions on the winning entry. What is noteworthy is
that no such opinions were requested from infrastructure specialist.
This study shows that Aalto possessed adequate courage to turn his ideas into reality
and that he could resolve his design questions as a result of any lectures he heard, con-
versations he had with his peers, and the buildings that he saw. He was someone who
learned a great deal from personal experience. Furthermore, Aalto would also have greatly
benefited from travelling to Brussels in October 1930, had he had the possibility to do so.
Had he attended the Brussels conference, he would have heard Le Corbusier completely
redefine the function of certain technological systems in construction. It is my firm belief
that hearing Le Corbusier’s presentation would have helped him gain a better grasp of
the problems surrounding the mechanical air conditioning system at Paimio Sanatorium.
However, in the scope of the patient room, Aalto succeeded in integrating the instal-
lations as part of his architecture for the space. But even this was not that simple: for
example, the drainage of the washbasin and spittoon were difficult to fit inside the small
301
duct. The issue of the ceiling radiator was important for Aalto. The matter was resolved
to Aalto’s satisfaction, and the ceiling radiators were installed. Aalto was, again, able
to convince the experts of the State Medical Board of the technical feasibility of this
option and won over the Building Board by referring to the attitude of the State Medical
Board. The initiative to use ceiling radiators came originally from the engineering firm
Radiator, which was not finally selected as the contractor despite Aalto’s great efforts.
Aalto felt that morally he owed the contract to Radiator, as they had helped him by pro-
viding advice on the options for, and innovations in, various water, drainage and heating
pipe and ventilation systems. The Building Board eventually selected another contractor
based on a narrow price margin, which brought the fruitful design collaboration between
Radiator and Aalto to an end. So the ceiling radiators installed were in the end those that
were already available on the market, instead of having Aalto design his own radiators
for that purpose. He had clear interest in concentrating his attention on the function of
ceiling radiators. In this sense, the design solution was not holistic, a fact to which the
Spanish researcher Mateo Closa has also previously drawn attention. The heating unit
mounted on the ceiling was therefore unfinished in its architectural treatment.
In my view, this episode is a telling case that shows the importance of collaborative
effort in a building project. Latour refers to strong networks formed by social and material
actants that together possess the capacity to act. In this case, selecting the “wrong” con-
tractor destroyed a viable collaborative pattern, in Latour’s terms a hybrid, so the innova-
tion process was interrupted and the new technological solution remained undeveloped.
The wavering position of the Building Board in initiating a robust design of the
installation systems also proves the importance of interaction in the design and con-
struction of a building. In the case of Paimio Sanatorium, the installation systems, for
example the sewage system, was not developed concurrently with the architectural
development of the building. A real ventilation plan was never devised, and it simply
emerged as a side product of the heating system.
A technological process benefits from inspiring ideas that are tested and subse-
quently adjusted. The story of Paimio Sanatorium reveals that the water, sewage and
heating pipe systems alongside the electrical and ventilation installations were relatively
new to Aalto, and he lacked the capacity to manage their design without the input
of specialists. More importantly, Aalto did not think to insist on engaging an expert
in the process, who would have been familiar with district infrastructure systems at a
sufficiently early stage. Demanding such expertise would have required, first of all, that
Aalto himself would have understood the importance of these systems and, secondly,
that he would have had sufficient authority to make such demands. Successful solutions
require strong and viable hybrids. Not all of the blame can be put on the Building
Board or a rigid organisation; Aalto was also guilty of undermining his own power to
secure the contract with Radiator, having alienated the Building Board by taking such
an intrusive role in the selection of the concrete frame contractor. Aalto had lost some of
the Building Board’s trust in his position heading his first major contract negotiations.
302
In my view, Alvar Aalto’s activities as the mediator of the international architec-

tural collective and Finnish society supports Karl-Erik Michelsen’s point regarding
the domesticators of technology. According to Michelsen’s observations, technology
transfer into Finland was not a national programme and instead the development was
in the hands of companies, and individuals working within them, to pursue their own
interests. These key groups of stakeholders wanted to bolster their own financial and
social status, and one way to achieve this was to be up-to-date with technological sys-
tems that were being developed in Western industrialised countries.1009 Aalto’s drivers
were naturally not primarily financial but artistic.
1009 Michelsen 1999, pp. 163–164; Hughes 1983, pp. 1 –17.
303
4 . 3 L ATO U R ’ S C O N C E P T S AT WO R K
I
approached the relationship between the architecture and technology of Paimio Sana-
torium through the perspective of the French sociologist Bruno Latour’s actor-network
theory. Like Latour, I have understood technological systems as being heterogeneous,
and not merely social or mechanical. Social actors, such as individuals, companies and
institutions, are parts of technological systems, as well as the material world. Moreover,
the social stakeholders represent different values and attitudes, which also form a part of
technological systems. A building was approached as a technological system. It followed
that the theory and ethics of an architect, which come to life through his activities as the
innovator of the process, become a part of a technological system, that is, architecture.
One of the key issues in this study was to delimit the object of study. According
to the definition of technology that I have adopted, the set of objects under scientific
enquiry may contain any entities. Along with Latour, I have followed an anthropolog-
ical approach, allowing the research object itself to direct me to the salient themes of
study. By analysing Aalto’s writings as well as his drawings, I have formed an opinion on
which approaches were important for him from the perspective of architectural theory.
In addition, I also tracked the decision-making process of the Building Board and iden-
tified a number of topics that it discussed intensely, and that caused conflicts. I followed
these points of disconnect, which Latour has dubbed trials.
I also applied Latour’s theory in a critical discussion of the delimitation of the research
object and the nature of the groups affecting decision-making.1010 My aim was to reveal the
interrelations within the technological systems at Paimio Sanatorium to the extent that they
affected the architectural solution. My intention was to reveal the movement of a building,
how it constantly changed.1011 However, the material posed certain challenges. The Building
Board recorded most of the decisions it made, but only few debates or discussions were
documented. In addition, there were several decisions made on issues that raised conflicts,
and yet no discussion or decision has been recorded. An example of such an issue is the
suspended intermediate floor in the dining hall, which the medical experts unanimously
opposed in their statements in spring 1929, but which remained in the designs, from com-
petition to execution. In this particular case, Aalto succeeded in translation, in other words,
to persuade the physicians by way of his section diagrams, which showed daylight penetrat-
ing the room to the furthest corner of the space, a desirable feature from the perspective of
health. Again, Aalto did not justify his design through aesthetic considerations, which
nonetheless played a role in his highly tectonic solutions. By cross-referencing different
sets of materials I could make conclusions on the course of events.
1010 In his work Reassembling the Social, Latour argues that, instead of preconceived theories and methods, research-
ers ought to pay attention to oppositions and uncertainties, the five most salient of which according to Latour
are the nature of groups, the nature of action, the nature of objects, the nature of knowledge and the nature of
sociological research. Latour 2007 [2005], pp. 21–22.
1011 See Latour and Yaneva 2008, especially pp. 85 and 88.
304
Latour’s observations on descriptions of innovation, and the intertwining of forces

as events that do not lend themselves to generalised concepts, form, in my judgment,
a sound basis for electing a case study as my angle on the topic. Aalto absorbed inter-
national influences and applied them in practice in his home country, which was still
deeply agricultural and struggling in the throes of economic depression. Construction
work was local. In the case of Paimio Sanatorium, Finland was witnessing the emer-
gence of a new building type (typos); at that time efforts were made to favour local or
at least domestic products and producers; the producer organisation for the building,
the architect and his vision were unique (tectonic); as was the location (topos). The above
summary of my thought was based on Kenneth Frampton’s theory of architecture
emerging as a synthesis of these three factors.
Latour’s theoretical thinking embodies the idea of general symmetry, in which the
object is perceived as an active entity participating in the construct, and the signifi-
cance of objects in human activity is taken seriously. The effect is not one-directional.
Latour and Yaneva challenge architectural theory to tackle the “admittedly daunting
task of inventing a visual vocabulary that will finally do justice to the “thingly” nature
of buildings and, by contrast to their tired, old “objective” nature”.1012 In the field of
architectural research, Annemarie Adams, among others, has stressed that doctors
and architects both left an imprint in hospital design and that modern hospitals in
turn shaped medical practice. As I have decided to limit my research period to the
construction stage, I had no reason to investigate the time after the completion of
the building and how the patient room shaped the daily routines of the hospital. In
line with the theme of reciprocity, I have discussed in this study how the prevailing
material reality affected the design solution.
On the issue of the concrete frame, my attention was drawn to how submissive the
Building Board acted in front of the architect and his favoured contractor. First of all, it
accepted a contract that was tens of percent higher than the most recent cost calculation
Aalto had prepared. Secondly, it was clearly convinced of the demanding nature of
the project and the imperative of a certain collaborative process, since it went on to
select only the fifth lowest quotation. A reinforced concrete building represented new
technology, which made decision-making more difficult. However, the Building Board
never once questioned the feasibility of the reinforced concrete frame and, instead, they
were convinced of the solution presented by Aalto. Aalto, as the innovator, in turn
managed to develop a viable hybrid and achieved his ambitious target.
The standards that Alvar Aalto designed for Paimio Sanatorium can be interpreted
through Latour’s theory of the locality of scientific knowledge. Firstly, Alvar Aalto
insisted on including the master drawings, cost calculations, work specification, working
drawings and the standard drawings in his design contract,1013 which shows that it was
somehow necessary to establish the concept of the standard in relation to the client,

1013 The contract signed between the Tuberculosis Sanatorium of Southwest Finland and architect Alvar Aalto, dated
June 28, 1929. AAM.
305
as the concept was in all likelihood completely new to the latter in this context. The
architect created a large number of standard drawings in conjunction with the design
work for Paimio Sanatorium, a practice that the contract thus legitimised. Some of the
standards were enclosed with the application addressed to the State Medical Board,
based on which the state authority decided to grant the permit and funding for the
project. Comparing the standards can be likened to the laboratory practice described
by Latour, in which the problem is isolated and resolved in a protected environment,
governed by the researcher alone.1014
Aalto’s intention behind this course of action was to bring an interesting phe-
nomenon into his own designer’s studio and under his scrutiny, so that he could work
it the way he wanted to and eventually design standards that could enter industrial
production, an interpretation that has only grown more convincing in the course of
my investigation into Aalto’s tactics as the chief supervisor of Paimio Sanatorium
acquisitions and purchases. Latour’s thesis of the locality of knowledge and knowl-
edge management seems to be highly accurate.1015
Although Aalto annexed the standards as part of the overall design, his aim was not,
in my estimation, to create a standard sanatorium, as referred to by Göran Schildt. Aalto’s
standards were rather more linked with construction and housing on a more general level,
and they could be adopted in a variety of buildings. Some of the standard drawings that
Aalto designed as part of the Paimio Sanatorium project, especially those for the sash
windows with German annotations, were never even intended to be used in the sanato-
rium, and were related to other, more general aspirations.
The winning competition entry showed that Aalto was capable of taking the objec-
tives of the clients, that is, the federation of municipalities and the State Medical Board,
which oversaw the construction work, and turn them into action in consensus with his
own objectives. Aalto was keen to make sure that the progress of his hospital project was
reported by the press in a positive light. A delegation from the 1932 Nordic Building
Forum, held in Helsinki, also paid a visit to the hospital building site. Aalto became a
the visible innovator, while the collective who had contributed in an essential way to the
project did not actively appear in the publicity, although some of them were indeed men-
tioned. The project presentations in Arkkitehti (The Finnish Architectural Journal) did
not include information about any other designer’s innovative solutions for the hospital.
In a Latourian reading, the collective became visible through its innovator, which
was enough for the audience. In this way, the modern reinforced concrete structure
improved the value of Alvar Aalto’s personal currency in the eyes of his peers. The other
actors and the crucial input were forgotten. The credit for the success, which was the
result of the work by the entire collective, went to Aalto alone.
Latour would talk about the achievements of the collective referring to the individ-
ual’s name, while he would point out that the collective comprised of entities belonging
1014 See Latour 1999a [1982], pp. 141–170.

1015 Latour 1999a [1982], p. 167; Lehtonen 2000, p. 281.
306
to different ontological categories. In the case of Paimio Sanatorium, Alvar Aalto would
stand as a reference to a collective formed by all social actors and inanimate entities
together. In my opinion, Latour’s description of the collective reveals something essen-
tial about architecture and is well-suited to the study of architecture, in which the role
of the designer is traditionally, and often disturbingly assigned to a single individual,
although anyone familiar with the field will know how necessary it is to view architec-
ture as a collective and an applied undertaking. The dilemma is also present in the title
of this dissertation.
Latour’s concepts lend themselves to architectural research with relative ease,
although his terminology might be foreign to the architectural research discourse. I
would point out, however, that it is much easier to make the inanimate speak in the field
of architecture than in many other disciplines – an aspect for which Latour has been
criticised. For example, architectural drawings are an essential part of the development
of ideas, as well as their ability to translate interests, if so wished. It is the architect’s job
to make matter speak.
Architects also participate in competitions by means of drawings. They have thereby
been attributed an ability to act. The competition jury makes its own interpretations
and decisions based on these materials representing the inanimate, and gives verbal
justifications for them. The jury probably sees other dimensions in the designs than
the author has intended. If the author manages to display qualities in the competition
sheets that appeal to the jury, the former will be able to win over the latter. Precisely
this type of process of translation, as referred to by Latour, was at play when architects
Väinö Vähäkallio, who had only just completed the Elanto Cooperative headquarters,
and Jussi Paatela, who was at that time working on the Kinkomaa Sanatorium and
was well-versed in construction technology, rated Aalto’s six-storey concrete building
as the winner. Its features plausibly possessed all the qualities of modern architecture
that they themselves were personally interested in. These two highly accomplished
architects, whose own designs were a degree more traditional, could not resist this
opportunity to see what kind of outcome could be achieved. I have also included in
this work a discussion on the episode that took place during the competition, when
Aalto received prior information from a medical expert of the State Medical Board
who communicated his opinions to Aalto regarding a feasible sanatorium. Naturally,
Aalto aimed to use his proposal to appeal to the medical expert of the State Medical
Board, which was financing the project, but through different methods from those that
he applied for the architectural members. The actor-network theory is interested in the
processes within which actants mutually build and modify their respective operative
situations and objectives.1016 In his proposal for Paimio Sanatorium, Aalto knew how to
address the very questions that the expert members of the jury would find interesting.
In the competition stage, the goal of the architect was to win the competition. With his
drawings and through his actions, he managed to translate the interests of the jury to
1016 Ylikoski 2000, p. 303.
307
support his proposal. He knew how to address the aspects that the jury held important.
However my view of the role of the architectural drawings differs to some extent from
the understanding of Latour and Yaneva.1017 This research showed that, in a real project,
the architect does not communicate merely through his drawings, a function which
Latour and Yaneva emphasised in their joint article, and that everything “else” is equally
significant. Aalto also learnt a lot from the other actants involved in the process, and
they brought insights of their own fields of expertise.
Latour’s view that a project will never amount to anything as long as its idea remains
pure, is fascinating from the perspective of architecture. A project can only materialise
if it is exposed to and intermingles with other elements through trials. Furthermore,
only when the resulting machine or other artefact, in this case a building, becomes
unquestionably established, so that this synthesis is forgotten, can an idea be perceived
as “pure”.1018 For this reason, a building may seem a static entity, and its movement is
indiscernible. Latour has aimed to provide theoretical tools to see beneath the static
surface.1019 When examining the relationship between architecture and technology, it
would be unrealistic to remain exclusively in the domain of ideas.
Beatriz Colomina has, in turn, focused attention on Le Corbusier’s idealised con-
cept of architecture. According to Colomina, Le Corbusier was more interested in
architecture in ink than in the site itself. My own research shows that Aalto, too, was
highly aware of the media space and was able to exploit it with skill.
According to Latour’s theory, the actants thus produced affect the nature of scientists,
laboratories, external actors and thought by partly redefining them. This process of pro-
duction is not one-directional. In my discussion of the architecture of Paimio Sanatorium
in the light of this theory, I pondered whether the outcome was one Aalto had hoped for,
and then arrived at the conclusion that in a way, it was not. At least, the sanatorium did
not turn out the way Aalto had wanted at the competition stage, or in April 1930, when
the master drawings were created and the State Medical Board approved them. Tracing
back the evolution of design solutions exposes the transformation, adaptation or develop-
ment of the architect’s thought. Aalto, the architect-innovator in the Paimio Sanatorium
project, trusted his own idea and that the idea would withstand the trials endured during
the construction process. His confident appearance, for example, in Oslo in 1931 and on
the pages of Byggmästaren in 1932 speaks volumes about his attitude.
For Alvar Aalto, the social dimension of the Paimio Sanatorium project was about
contributing to the defining of the actor-network for the project and communicating with
the network members. Attaching competent collaborators to the project was of decisive
importance. The technological process of Paimio Sanatorium found its shape through
Aalto’s subjective vision, which was informed by international architectural discourse.
Personally witnessing and participating in this discourse strengthened Aalto’s confidence
and courage as the project innovator. Aalto developed his vision through interaction, by
1017 Latour and Yaneva 2008, especially p. 84.

1018 Lehtonen 2000, p. 283.
308
participating in exhibitions and expressing himself in writing. The sanatorium project

developed simultaneously as a social and material undertaking, through trials. In other
words, the heterogeneous actant was placed under constant testing. This process also
served to change the line of thought for its innovator. For example, the concept of the
minimum apartment, with which he was able to personally familiarise himself during
the design work for the sanatorium, inspired him to develop the daily environment of the
patient. In Paimio, the new type of consumer found a home in the patient room, which
Aalto designed based on the international discourse he had embraced. The focal points of
his interests were revealed through the successful integration of the different installations
in the patient room, although these very systems proved a problem in a larger context. It is
clear that he also learnt a great deal from the processes that he was unable to control, and
the outcome of which was not architecturally sound.
The task of the researcher is to follow the actants and to register any changes in them
and the impact resulting from these changes. As Latour points out, a social scientist cannot
know before the fact what society is made up of. It is something that only the actants, both
social and material, themselves can disclose. In a similar vein, an architectural researcher
cannot know in advance what architecture is made of, as I myself learnt from this work.
An idealised presentation of a building, as is often seen in architectural publications, does
not emphasise the nature of architecture as an applied art, but rather an individualistic
phenomenon detached from material and social interaction. Architecture is inherently
material and collective. It was possible to make visible the “movement” of a building,
that is, its transformation during the building process, by looking into the networks that
formed the interactive context where the building took place.
More interesting than the knowledge that a specialist hospital was built in Finland
in the early 1930s with a novel patient-centred approach, is the deeper insight into
the prerequisites for successful architecture that the present study has provided. The
most successful architectural solutions for Paimio Sanatorium, a demanding institu-
tional building project, came into being in circumstances where the architect-innovator
managed to create a strong and viable hybrid that merged collective competence with
knowledge and expertise. Creating such circumstances today, when hospital design is
strongly focused on patient experiences and hospital architecture is again understood as
an element of treatment, could lead to successful innovation processes.
309
SOURCES
ARCHIVES
Alvar Aalto Museum (AAM), Helsinki
Correspondence
Photographs [database]
Alvar Aalto’s books [database]
Alvar Aalto Museum (AAM), Jyväskylä

Architectural drawings
Documents related to Paimio Sanatorium project
Archives of Huonelukalutehdas Korhonen Oy (Furniture and Building Work Factory), Littoinen

(KOR), deposited at Alvar Aalto Musem in Jyväskylä, Finland.
Correspondence
Archives of TS-Yhtymä, Turku (TS)

Architectural drawings related to Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building
Protographs related to Turun Sanomat Newspaper Building
Arkitektur- och Designcentrum, Stockholm (ArkDes)

Sven Markelius’ documents
Photographs [database]
Central Archive of the City of Turku, Turku (TKA)

Building permit documents
Finnish Patent and Registration Office, Helsinki (PRH)

Patent documents
European Patent Office (Espacenet)

Espacenet patent database
http://worldwide.espacenet.com
Museum of Finnish Architecture (MFA)

Database of architectural objects (Accessed January 27, 2000)
Nasjonalmuseet Norge, Oslo (NN)

Register of Norwegian architects [digitalised documents]
National Board of Arntiquities (NBA)

Photographs
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Patent documents
Documents of the Trade Register
Documents of the State Medical Board
Turku University Central Hospital’s Paimio Hospital archives, Paimio (PSA)

Architectural drawings
Contracts 1929–1951
Manufacturers’ drawings and brochures
Engineering drawings
Minutes of the Building Board 1928–1934
Minutes of the Building Committee 1930–1933
Photographs
312
E - M A I L C O M M U N I C AT I O N S T O A U T H O R
Architect Panu Kaila’s e-mail communication to the author, February 26, 2003.
Statistic Finland information officer Leo Kostiainen’s e-mail communication to the author, December 7,
2010.
E-mail communication from Nina Blum, Mag. Art., Ernst-May Gesellschaft’s employee, to the author,
December 6, 2011.
Alvar Aalto Museum researcher Arne Hästesko’s e-mail communication, January 7, 2012.
Alvar Aalto Museum archivist Marja-Liisa Hänninen’s e-mail communication to the author, January
28, 2013.
Finnish Patent and Registration Office clerk Riitta Huusko’s e-mail communication to the author,
May 4, 2013.
Librarian Delphine Studer’s e-mail communications from Fondation Le Corbusier to the author,
January 12, 2015 and April 10, 2015.
V E R B A L I N F O R M AT I O N
The interview of Jaakko Hartela, Chairman of the Board for Hartela Group, June 6, 2001, inter-
viewed by the author.
Personal conversation with Päivi Hovi-Wasastjerna, PhD, Research Director of Aalto University,
December 23, 2011.
Personal conversation with Kirsi Helenius, City of Turku Archive information service sercretary,
January 18, 2013.
Renja Suominen-Kokkonen in personal conversation, March 18, 2015.
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338
In her study Architecture and Technology: Alvar Aalto’s

Paimio Sanatorium Marianna Heikinheimo, Master of Science
(Architecture), Master of Arts (Fine Arts), analyses a building
project, progressive for its time. She asks, how did Aalto manage
to reconcile international ideology and local building culture in
Finland where the degree of industrialisation in the building
sector was relatively low in the early 1930s, and in what ways
were the avant-gardist ideas translated into practical solutions?
This book examines what happens to architecture during the

process of planning and construction when the outcome is
affected by several contributors and local circumstances. The
study, within the field of architectural history, presents extensive
empirical evidence, unveiling the roles of the client, the design
engineers, building part manufacturers and contractors, as well
as the professional tactics to which the architect resorted to
achieve his objectives.

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MARIANNA HEIKINHEIMO

1 Colquhoun 1962, s. 508.

2 Colquhoun 1962, p. 508.

School of Arts, Design and Architecture

Translated from Finnish by Tytti Laine

Materials: Invercote Creato 260 g and Munken Lynx 120 g

ISBN 978-952-60-6568-7 (printed)

3 See e.g. Hughes 1989, pp. 184–185.

9 Gold 1997, pp. 2–3.

15 Giedion 1944 [1941], p. 116; Georgiadis 1993, p. 102.

23 Banham 1999 [1960], p. 328.

technological matters were governed by other professionals, ranging from plumbers to

28 Banham 1984 [1969], p. 9–14.

45 Colquhoun 1962, p. 508.

A wing Patients’ wing and nurses apartments

C wing Staff dormitory, kitchen and laundry

D wing District heating plant

E Junior Physicians’ and Administrative Director’s terraced house

F Workers’ apartment building

46 Hartoonian 1997, p. 38.

52 Marx and Smith 1998 [1994], p. xiii.

theoretical frameworks outside architecture, will architectural theory become a relevant

59 Latour and Yaneva 2008, p. 88.

63 Latour 1988; Ylikoski 2000, p. 303.

The significance of rational management methods, more specifically the methods

105 Adams 2008, pp. 120–121.

121 McLeod 1983, pp. 138–139.

1.3.2 MODERN ARCHITECTURE AND MASS MEDIA

1.3.3 ARCHITECTS AND ENGINEERS

Industrialisation also entailed a differentiation in the professions and job descriptions

137 Colomina 1998 [1994], p. 190.

143 Pfammater 2000, pp. 302–307.

Construction history, which is based on empirical inquiry, is quite young among

183 Soiri-Snellman 2010.

189 Linares 1991, pp. 59–79.

204 Wang 2002, p. 151.

The empirical section on the construction process in this dissertation could be

213 Heikinheimo et al., Ark-byroo architects 2000.

Table. 1.4.2a. Methods and aspects of analysis of different data types.

220 Bonta 1979, passim pp. 125–129.

241 Henttonen 2009, p. 55.

249 Adams 2008, p. 126.

257 Hughes 1997 [1987], p. 53.

267 Forty 2000, p. 100.

CIAM demanded that architects had to be able to practise their profession

301 See e.g. Mäkikalli and Grägg 2004, pp. 8–9.

Bau und Wohnung included Le Corbusier’s German-language article “Fünf Punkte

309 Le Corbusier 1992 [1927], pp. 27–37.

The exhibition publication Innenräume, introducing the interiors featured in the

311 Le Corbusier 1928a, pp. 122–125.

312 Droste 1991, pp. 190 and 196–200.

325 Aalto 1928c, p. 3.

333 Suominen–Kokkonen 2007, pp. 70–71.

344 Aalto 1929a, pp. 83–88.

352 Aalto 1928b, p. 76.

355 Archive reference VII-30-3. TKA.

381 Le Corbusier 1991 [1930], pp. 35–37.

388 Aalto 1930b, p. 1.

403 Asplund et al 1931.

412 Schildt 1985, pp. 46–54.

423 Markelius 1928, p. 71.

427 Markelius 1930, pp. 173–176.

431 Anon 1931, p. 6; See also Schildt 1985, p. 65.

1 Colquhoun 1962, s. 508.

2 Colquhoun 1962, p. 508.

3 See e.g. Hughes 1989, pp. 184–185.

9 Gold 1997, pp. 2–3.

15 Giedion 1944 [1941], p. 116; Georgiadis 1993, p. 102.

23 Banham 1999 [1960], p. 328.

28 Banham 1984 [1969], p. 9–14.

45 Colquhoun 1962, p. 508.

46 Hartoonian 1997, p. 38.

52 Marx and Smith 1998 [1994], p. xiii.

59 Latour and Yaneva 2008, p. 88.

63 Latour 1988; Ylikoski 2000, p. 303.

121 McLeod 1983, pp. 138–139.

137 Colomina 1998 [1994], p. 190.

143 Pfammater 2000, pp. 302–307.

183 Soiri-Snellman 2010.

189 Linares 1991, pp. 59–79.

204 Wang 2002, p. 151.

213 Heikinheimo et al., Ark-byroo architects 2000.

220 Bonta 1979, passim pp. 125–129.

241 Henttonen 2009, p. 55.

249 Adams 2008, p. 126.

257 Hughes 1997 [1987], p. 53.

267 Forty 2000, p. 100.

301 See e.g. Mäkikalli and Grägg 2004, pp. 8–9.

309 Le Corbusier 1992 [1927], pp. 27–37.

311 Le Corbusier 1928a, pp. 122–125.

312 Droste 1991, pp. 190 and 196–200.

325 Aalto 1928c, p. 3.

333 Suominen–Kokkonen 2007, pp. 70–71.

344 Aalto 1929a, pp. 83–88.

352 Aalto 1928b, p. 76.

355 Archive reference VII-30-3. TKA.

381 Le Corbusier 1991 [1930], pp. 35–37.

388 Aalto 1930b, p. 1.

403 Asplund et al 1931.

412 Schildt 1985, pp. 46–54.

423 Markelius 1928, p. 71.

427 Markelius 1930, pp. 173–176.

431 Anon 1931, p. 6; See also Schildt 1985, p. 65.

441 Aalto 1932c, p. 88.

454 Drawing No. 50-169. AAM.

461 See Aalto 1930c, 1929a and 1929d.

471 Gropius 1955b [1931], pp. 119–133.

478 Giedion 1931a and 1931b.

487 Aalto 1933b, pp. 79–91.

504 Mumford 2002, p. 79.

509 Le Corbusier 1964a [1933], p. 189.

514 Aalto 1930d, pp. 119–120.

555 Building Board 7 July 1928, Section 4. PSA.

557 Building Board October 27, 1928, Section 1. PSA.

567 Henttonen 2009, pp. 145–148 and p. 343.

596 Drawings from No. 50-638 to No. 50-654. AAM.

604 Building Board April 8, 1930. PSA.

609 Drawings Nos. from 50-199 to 50-201. AAM.

620 Building Board May 23, 1931, Section 3. PSA.

625 Building Board October 17, 1931, Section 6. PSA.

630 Cost estimate, December 1, 1929. (PSA).

631 Hannikainen 2004, p. 10.

638 Peltola 2008a, p. 121.

663 Kankaanpää 1997, pp. 65–66.

669 Building Committee June 12, 1930, Section 5. PSA.

682 Aalto [1930]a, p. 8.

697 Building Board December 8, 1929, Section 2. PSA.

701 Aalto [1930]a, p. 8.

706 Drawings Nos. 50-29 and 50-25. AAM.

711 Henriksson 1927.

721 Minutes of the final inspection, December 5, 1930. PSA.

750 Drawing No. 50-181. AAM.

757 Drawing No. 50-332. AAM.

766 Building Board December 8, 1929, Section 2. PSA.